I Am the City
by Death Makes An Artist
Summary: A new transfer to the Special Victims Unit, Assistant District Attorney Alexandra Cabot finds herself quickly entangled in a human trafficking case that answers more personal questions than she ever realized she even had and shows her the true capacity of familial bonds. A/O romance; mostly T rating, some M-ish spots.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Hello friends. I apologize for the pure length of time I have been away. I will be working on current, open stories once again, but this one kind of put the others on hold for a little while. It is a request fic from a woman who is living proof of everything the human spirit can endure. I can only hope I have done her ideas justice, that she enjoys this, and so do you._

 _As always with the nature of these kinds of stories, take care of yourselves. If you ever need to talk, my inbox is open, and I strongly suggest going to RAINN's website and finding the number to your local crisis center in the US. Outside of the US, the HotPeachPages offers a list of services by country. For immediate police or medical assistance, contact your country's emergency line. You cannot pour from an empty cup, so please, please take care of yourselves._

 _Thank you for the reads and reviews._

 _Always - DMAA_

 **D/V, Sex Assault, and Child Abuse trigger potential throughout.**

I Am the City

Ch 1.

 _She favoured the mornings, when the fog was just barely beginning to lift, before the city that never slept began to awaken. It was in these moments, as the giant slept next door, that she felt most at peace._

Nataliya

September 21, 2000

"Get up, you lazy girl."

She yelped as a cold hand reached beneath the warm covers, yanking her unceremoniously from her cocoon. "Leave me alone." She hazarded a glance at the clock on the bedside table, groaning at the appearance of three bright green numbers that told her that it was barely three in the morning. She had barely gotten in an hour ago, and she was exhausted. "Money on table from last night. I swear all of it."

"Getting up a little early ain't gunna kill ya." The gruff man before her pulled her standing, shaking her a little as he looked her over. A baby doll tee clung to her body, her lower half clothed only by a pair of underwear. She always felt naked when she slept, but she knew it was how he liked it. And, Mikey, with his tangled hair and prickly beard, his defined muscles, and his short temper, was not the kind of person she tried to displease.

His hands grabbed and rubbed over her breasts, pinching her nipples. She cringed as they hardened involuntarily. "You'll be fine in this," he purred. "Won't stay on long, anyhow."

"Stop scaring me. Who else is here?" she mewled, raking her fingers through her hair to try to hide her face a little better.

"Just some guys from the club. Why don't you give us a little show before bed, baby?" He pulled her flush against him, grinding his hips into her. She could smell the beer on his breath and the alcohol in his sweat that was so key to a chronic alcoholic. He was not as drunk as he could have been, and that scared her even more.

She pulled a face as she tried to step away, wishing she made more to pull herself out of the toxic place she had found herself in. But, she did not, and Mikey made her turn her income over to him, and since it was all under the table, she had very little recourse. She never saw a dime from it unless he sent her to the store with a twenty to buy more beer.

Olivia

September 21, 2000

Glancing up at the sound of footsteps near the door, Olivia found herself surprised to see a woman standing there looking about as lost as a kitten. Despite her attire which screamed sex worker, her visage was frightened, youthful, and, perhaps most importantly, foreign. Olivia could not help but wonder if the woman was even aware of where she was.

"How can I help you?" the detective asked as the woman's glance seemed to survey the room. She was looking for signs of danger, Olivia was certain of that much. Too many victims had come in in the years she had been a police officer for her to not recognize the signs and symptoms of victimhood.

"Officer at desk said to come up here," the woman replied, her accent thick, her English good but seeming to require a great deal of effort, as though she were translating in her head.

"Okay," Olivia said, standing and walking towards the victim. "My name's Olivia. I'm a detective. Why don't you take a seat and tell me what happened?"

The woman nodded, following the detective's guiding gesture. "They said you could make reports of rape," she said, tears filling her eyes. "I don't want to be deported. But, I can't – it's too much."

"Okay," the detective started, sitting the woman down and pulling a chair up close to her. "I'm not with INS. I'm not going to report you. Why don't you just tell me what happened? Were you raped?"

The woman nodded. "My – my, I don't know what he's called. I live with him, but I never loved him," the woman said, shaking her head. "He was helping me find my sister. I came to America to find her. But, he lied. He makes me do things to him and his friends. I am scared he followed me here." The woman trembled as she sat, her eyes constantly flicking around the room. Olivia felt her heart go out to the woman who had experienced nothing short of true terror.

"We can protect you," Olivia said. "You did the right thing coming here. What's your name?"

"Natliya," the young woman sniffed. "Nataliya Andreiko."

"Okay, Nataliya. How old are you?"

"Twenty eight," the woman answered, brushing the tears from her eyes before they had much of a chance to fall. Still, Olivia could see the struggle to not cry, and she handed Nataliya a box of tissues. This was a woman not accustomed to the violence of being sexually exploited. The best Olivia could guess was that she was newer to the country and newly tricked into exploitation.

"Do you know the man who is abusing you?" Olivia asked.

"Only as Mikey," Nataliya replied. "Please, I want get away from him, but he promised help me find my sister. I have to find her. "

Nodding, the detective made a few notes on the notepad on her desk. "What's your sister's name?" she asked.

"Sofiya Andreiko."

"Okay. Where are you from?"

"Kiev, in Ukraine," Nataliya answered, sucking on her lower lip. "My sister was taken to America as child. People who took her told police they dropped her in New York. They say that's the last they saw of her, would not tell police what happened after."

Pressing her lips together, Olivia's pen paused, hovering just above the pad. "When you say took, do you mean smuggled?" she asked.

"Yes," Nataliya answered. "I think. She was five."

Olivia's eyes widened. "She was trafficked, kidnapped?"

"Yes, that is word. Kidnapped. Police found men who brought her to America, but no her. She already bought. I was hoping -" She trailed off, her eyes going dark. "Mother still cries for her every night. Father, he drinks to make pain go away."

The detective nodded, not even able to fathom the level of pain that the family must have felt, especially knowing that the missing daughter had likely suffered. "I can look in our system to see if anyone with that name has had contact with the system, but if she was trafficked, she may have never had contact with the outside world. They may have even changed her name. How long ago did this happen?"

"Twenty three years. We are twins. My parents did not tell me she was brought to America. I found three years ago. I worked and worked to be able to afford to come here, to find her."

Olivia nodded. "Okay. We'll do what we can to help you. But, first, I want to make sure you're safe from Mikey. How long ago did he last force you to do anything to him or anyone else?"

"This morning," Nataliya murmured, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs. "He had two friends from the club over – I dance, at night, at club. He said it was entertainment. Taller man, he put his – he put his penis in my -" Nataliya seemed to struggle for the right word before she cried, covering her face with her hands. "It was first time anyone ever put themselves in my ass."

"Nataliya?" Olivia murmured, her voice soft. "I'm so sorry this has happened to you. I would really like to transport you to the hospital. They might be able to get DNA left on your body from these men, and we can prosecute them for everything they've done."

The Ukrainian woman shook her head. "I can't. They'll deport me. I have to find Sofiya."

"I'm not going to report you, and our ADA, our prosecutor, Abbie, she'll do everything in her power to get you what's called a U-visa so that you can stay here because you're a victim of a crime. They won't deport you, okay? I won't let them." Olivia pressed her lips together. She was only four years older than the woman before her, and she figured it was a sign of how differently her life could have gone. In so many ways, despite her personal struggles and the impact the job had on her, she was so glad that she had never been in any of the victims' shoes.

Slowly, Nataliya nodded. "Will you help me find my sister? I can't bear to think – if she going through this daily." The woman before her wrapped her arms around herself, squeezing her fingers so tightly into her skin, her skin turned sheet white, the blood forced away.

"I'll do what I can," Olivia said. "While we're at the hospital, we can do a DNA collection. Since you're Sofiya's twin, we can use your DNA to try to match it to any of our open cases. If we can get pictures of you when you were a child, too, we can run your image through our system to see if we ever encountered any child pornography or trafficking cases with an unknown child. Since you're identical, we can fudge the system parameters a little to account for any differences developed as you aged, but we should be able to see if we've ever encountered her.

Nataliya nodded. "Anything. I call my mother for pictures. We have many of Sofiya before she was taken." Slowly, her grip on herself relaxed as she stared at Olivia. The detective had to remember that she was probably the first person to offer genuine help since Nataliya had stepped foot on American soil. Her experience in America, until that point, had been one of deceit and abuse.

"Okay. Let's get you to the hospital, then, and while we're there, you can call your mother. Will she be awake right now, if she's in Kiev?"

The woman nodded. "It only nine there. She not sleep much." Nataliya looked at her knees. "I think it will kill her soon."

Pressing her lips together, Olivia nodded. "When was the last time you spoke with her?"

"When I first came to America," Nataliya whispered. "Mikey never lets me use phone."

"I'm sorry, Nataliya. How long have you been in America?"

"Two years," the Ukrainian replied, sucking her lower lip between her teeth as she huddled in the chair. "I want so bad go home. But, I can't leave without knowing what happen to Sofiya." The woman blinked back tears, and Olivia could not help but get the sense that she had come from a very loving family. This was not a woman who had to be tough growing up or learn street smarts. She was compassionate and had such an open heart that Olivia could see it even through two years of abuse.

Olivia nodded. "When we get to the hospital, Nataliya, you can call your mom and let her know you're safe and we're going to do everything we can to find Sofiya."


	2. Chapter 2

Ch 2.

 _It was her favourite time of year. She watched as the leaves would fall past the windows of her apartment. They always reminded her of something, something simple, something safe, something she could not quite place._

Alexandra

October 11, 2000

"Me?" she asked, eyes wide with shock. "Are you sure? Nora, with all due respect, I've been here for only a year."

The older woman before her shrugged. "You're talented, Alexandra, that's what I'm looking for. It's not like you're green. You prosecuted in Suffolk County for five years. Boston's no easy city, and you came to me with glowing recommendations. I think I still have the email from Dan telling me to send you back if you decided you didn't want to stay in the Big Apple."

Alex pressed her lips together. "I mean, I'm honoured. I just -"

"You're ready. And, you have to be at the Morris Commission in two hours. I expect you there to meet the captain of your assigned squad, and, Alex, don't be shy about your recommendations. I promised the Commissioner that the person I assigned would have a solid head on her shoulders." Nora gave her a look and then tapped the paperwork in her hand as though there would be no more room for argument over the matter.

Still stunned, Alex stood and left, walking back to her own office in a daze before flopping gracelessly on the chair behind her desk. It was a lot to absorb. There had been no warning signs, either, no obvious grooming, no rumors going around the office, nothing. In all honesty, Alex had not even applied for the position. She was quite content on the general felony docket in the office. And, because there had been no warning, she was not entirely certain that it was a good thing.

Nevertheless, Alex had always been one to rise to the occasion, and she began to mentally prepare herself for the role she was thrust in to. The worst part was that even though she was assigned to just one unit, the secondary purpose of the assignment, after prosecution, was to evaluate the detectives on the unit for any glaring rights violations. They had a reputation for being less than squeaky in their methodology. Another thing Alex hardly understood – she was not exactly the queen of following rules herself. In fact, she was well known for her ability to bend rules without ever actually breaking them. It certainly called Nora's motivations into play assigning Alex.

Alexandra

October 11, 2000

"Hey, you came by," the bright smile of the woman before her almost reached her eyes. "I wasn't sure how the Commission hearing would go?"

It was phrased as a question, and Alex sighed as her answer, leaning on the door frame and rolling her eyes.

"That good?" Abbie asked, shaking her head. "They're good cops, Lex. Mostly. I always wished I had more time to dedicate to their precinct. I think that's one thing sorely lacking. Specialized units like that need to have a dedicated prosecutor. Sharing me with other districts and other unit distinctions has not made the prosecutorial process easy for them."

"I think Nora's worried it's making it too easy. The Commission came down pretty hard on them. The captain was not happy to see me."

"Don? No, I suppose not," the former SVU prosecutor murmured, her eyes going distant. "He's good, though, Alex."

"Why are they doing this?" Alex asked, moving to sit on the opposite side of Abbie from her desk, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Did they tell you?"

Abbie chuckled. "Actually, that's a bit of why I wanted to talk to you. The detectives haven't really learned the finesse of colouring wildly inside the lines if you know what I mean." Alex nodded. She understood. She certainly pushed that boundary herself. "Well, to be blunt, you have."

"So, I'm playing teacher, not disciplinarian?" Alex mused.

"Kind of," Abbie said. "It's not Nora's reasoning, but, um, both Liz and I asked for you to be considered as a part of that reasoning. I know I won't be here, but I'd hate to see a good cop go down because of a lack of political finesse. I've never met a more passionate group of people in my life, Alex. Get to know them. They'll blow you away. Let them know why you're here, the honest reason. I think it'll wear down their sharp edges a little bit."

Alex smiled, her body relaxing just a little. "Thank you, Abbie. You have no idea."

Abbie laughed. "No problem. Now, shall we dive into these cases?"

"Sure, let's start with the upcoming trials," Alex said as she leaned forward, lower lip tucked between her teeth. It may have been an unexpected promotion, but Alex could not put less than her best effort into each case. It was just her nature.

For the next several hours, the two women poured over Special Victims cases. There were three trials starting over the next three months, and Alex knew she needed to prepare. One was a domestic violence homicide that broke Alex's heart. The two had been a couple for six years, and it looked like a pattern of abuse was established early on. As they looked over the history of the couple, particularly of one of their arrest records, she could see as the abuse escalated, the violence becoming ever more damaging. She could not imagine having to bury a son, especially not when his death was caused by a man who may as well have been a husband, regardless of the law. It killed her a little inside. The domestic violence rate was the same in homosexual couple as it was in heterosexual couples, but Alex kind of felt like it was a group of people that should be more protective of each other given the anguish they endured from less than accepting people.

The second case was a serial sexual assault on the NYU campus. The abuser was a professor, and that pissed Alex off as well. College students may have been adults in age, but they were hardly often adults in mentality, many away from home for the first time. They trusted the staff on campus to help keep them safe. So did the parents. When that trust was violated, the whole community felt the blow back.

The last case made her chest tighten. The woman was a trafficking victim and there was a federal case number attached. Abbie explained that the feds were taking the trafficking portion, but since the woman was married to her abuser, Abbie had fought to keep jurisdiction over the battery and rape cases.

"They'll try to take these from you, to dismiss them on a plea for the trafficking. God, Alex, you haven't met this woman. Don't let them do it. She bought her way into the country to find her sister and wound up sold into slavery instead. The ass that bought her forced her to marry him before she even spoke English. I've been arguing that she wasn't even competent to sign the marriage license. I just got word back, though, from the immigration attorney. They granted the U-Visa, and she's good to stay through trial. She doesn't want to go home after, though. Benson and Stabler and pulling personal time to dredge through old child pornography cases and work with the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children to see if the sister's been trafficking into child sex slavery. It's going to be one of the most heart breaking damn cases you'll hear."

Brow furrowed, Alex flipped through the motions on the case that had already been argued as well as the pages scrawled in Abbie's neat but loopy handwriting of notes from court and phone calls. "How old's the sister?"

"Uh, I don't remember exactly, but she's the same age as the victim. They're twins, but the whole case is a mess. The sister was kidnapped from their home country and trafficked here. INTERPOL couldn't track her past New York City, and that was twenty years ago. Really, she could be anywhere in the world."

"Or dead," Alex whispered.

"Or dead," Abbie agreed, biting her lip. "I've cried over this one, Lex. Be warned."

Licking her lips, Alex looked over the notes, slowly reading them. She thought about her own family. While she had no siblings, she could only imagine the kind of determination and courage it would take to chase a sibling across the world, twenty years after a kidnapping. She had no idea how someone would be able to move forward from an event like that, having a sibling or a child taken by force and shipped off to foreign lands.

"I've heard horror stories about this kind of thing," Alex finally murmured, "but I had never really looked into the reality." Pressing her lips together, she considered some of the more legal considerations the woman would be facing once her case was completed in the justice system and her U-Visa expired. "Do you think she'll qualify for temporary asylum?"

Abbie shrugged. "I don't know. I don't know how many applicants they get from the Ukraine each year."

Alex's head shot up. "She's from the Ukraine?" she asked.

"Mmhm," Abbie hummed before her eyes went wide. "That's right, I forgot. That's where you're from isn't it?"

Sighing, Alex shrugged. "That or Russia, they weren't really sure," she admitted. Like so many children left without a family, she had been adopted by an American couple, though her story, she did not think, had anything to do with underfunded Russian orphanages. Instead, it was a whole lot of blank spaces as her first clear memory in life was waking up in a hospital in the heart of New York City. She had been seven years old at the time. The police had thought she had been involved in an accident near one of the docks frequented by prostitutes and their Johns. But, Alex had remembered nothing, not even her own name. The amnesia had never cleared, and the fog still hovered when she thought about those early years of her life.

"Do you still speak either language?" Abbie asked, brow raised. She did not know much about Alex's adoption into American culture, but it had come up on a previous case that Alex had sought guidance from the more senior ADA.

"Both," Alex said. "Russian was my minor in my undergrad." She chuckled. "Easiest classes I ever took."

"The victim, ah, Nataliya, might open up more if someone on the case speaks Ukranian. Munch has been speaking to her using Russian since he's fluent, and she seems to be responsive to him."

Alex nodded. "I can only imagine how scared she is. It might be comforting to know that she's not totally alone on this side of the ocean." Pressing her lips together, Alex considered a few things. She would need to meet with the detectives first and then the victims on each of the cases. "Mind if I grab these from you? I think I'm going to call Don and arrange to have lunch in the next day or two and clear up a few things about my, uh, appointment to this unit."

Abbie chuckled. "That's a great idea, Lex. You'll adjust just fine. They're lucky to have you."

Scoffing, Alex shook her head. "I'm glad you think so. Now, I just have to convince everyone else, me included."

"You'll be fine," Abbie said with a reassuring smile. "You're great at what you do, and you're passionate, so it's even better."


	3. Chapter 3

Ch 3.

 _There was a coffee shop around the corner from her house. There, she found that while answers did not seem to lie in the bottom of the cup, the coffee kept her distracted enough to stop thinking about the questions._

Helen

October 20, 2000

Screaming, she sat up, duvet clutched tightly to her chest. Her heart raced. She panted, struggling for a breath. Then, arms wrapped around her, and she shook her head, pulling away. Standing, she let the blanket fall away from her body.

"Baby, it's me," he pleaded, his eyes wide and sad. He was a cop. She was a cop. She could see that in so many ways, he understood. In so many ways, he did not. They deliberately did not discuss work at home. "Honey, where'd you go?"

"I have to shower," she mumbled. "I'm sorry Stephen. I'll be – go back to sleep. I'm sorry."

She felt his eyes on her as she walked into the small bathroom attached to their bedroom. They were worried eyes, she was sure, but they made her feel dirty. Everything made her feel dirty. Her job consisted of so much horror that there was no possible means to get clean again.

Quietly, she showered, the water as hot as it could go. It still was not hot enough, though, and she felt cold as she scrubbed her body and washed her hair. When she stepped out of the shower, he was there, holding out a towel. "Transfer units," he said. "Please. This is killing you."

She looked at him with tired eyes. "I can't," she whispered, her voice hoarse from crying under the water. She wrapped the towel around herself and hugged it tight. "Those children need a voice. I started the program. I have to stick with it."

Pressing her lips together, she made to walk out of the bathroom but was stopped, his arms around her body, pulling her close to him. She put up a token resistance before turning in his arms and crying.

Helen

October 20, 2000

"Benson, do you have a moment?" the detective called as Olivia stopped in the middle of the hall and turned.

With a bright smile she did not quite feel, Olivia nodded. "Sure, Helen. Is this about the Andreiko matter?"

"Yes. I was wondering if you got the pictures of the missing girl in yet?" Helen asked, trotting up beside her, arms full of case files. "I've entered in some perimeters based on what you said Nataliya told you, but I'd love to be able to give the computer a more accurate face."

"I do. Actually, Nataliya said they arrived at the shelter this morning. The parents couldn't figure out how to scan and email them, so we've just been waiting for them to come in by post. Do you, uh, do you want to see the photographs first hand? Nataliya's down stairs, I'm just headed down to fetch her. We're headed to interview three."

"That would be fantastic. Let me store these on your desk."

"Sure," Olivia said, handing over her key ring. "Bottom drawer just to keep prying eyes out of them."

Helen walked into the Special Victims squad room, tucking her case files into the other detective's desk except for one. The tab was labeled _Andreiko, S._ It was not unusual for her to have case files with children so young. Indeed, Sofiya was not nearly as young as some of the victims that Helen was charged with seeking, finding, and saving. Most of the children, they never found. It broke her heart.

"Owens, how are you doing?" a smiling father figure asked. He wore the weight of the world on his shoulders, but he always seemed to have time to listen to others when they were in need.

She smiled at him. "I'm doing well, Don. How are you?"

The man rolled his eyes. "They sent us a new babysitter."

"I heard," Helen said with a sigh. "How's she turning out?"

"Better than I thought so far," he returned candidly. "We'll see, though. She's meeting her first special victim today."

"Uh oh. This could be a fiasco." Helen chuckled, more than familiar with breaking in new ADAs.

Don chuckled. "You wanna watch?"

"I'm already tied up with Liv on the Andreiko matter," Helen began wishing she could see both. In her experience, ADAs had a difficult time relating to victims which made for a stunning, somewhat comical and slightly uncomfortable first meeting for many of them. They were not accustomed to people who had been through the kind of hell an SVU victim had been through. It was one thing to have your purse snatched by a man on the bus, Helen always thought, but something else entirely to have a man forcibly put his penis anywhere.

"Ironic," Don said. "Interview three. Cabot's already there. Maybe you can give me a read on her."

"Sure," Helen said with a shrug. "Hell, I can ask her some questions for my exploitation profile."

"There ya go. Just be honest with me. I don't think I can handle babysitting the babysitter."

Helen chuckled, heading towards the appropriate interview room. She knocked on the door and walked inside. Interview rooms three through five were all for witnesses and victims, so they were much more accommodating, the furniture more comfortable and the shelves with extra paperwork. The rooms were also kept at a humane temperature, not too hot and not too cold. It was different than the suspect interview rooms where cold and steel seemed to rule.

Inside, there was already a woman sitting down, pen tucked in her mouth, case file open before her. She was working on figuring something out, and Helen could not quite tell what. As the door closed, the woman looked up, her face, like her body, calm and professional. "Hello," she said, clearly expectant.

"Hi, I'm Helen Owens. Liv invited me to sit in on the interview to learn more about the missing sister." Helen held out her hand, and the woman stood, taking her hand with a firm shake. "You must be Alex Cabot?"

"I am. You're with MEP, I take it?" she asked, referencing the Missing and Exploited Persons Unit by its acronym. Helen nodded. "That's great. I'm prosecuting the forcible marriage and the sexual abuse, but I've really got no idea how to proceed with the missing persons aspect. We don't usually prosecute a missing person. By the time they get to my office, they're usually a homicide or a trafficking issue."

"Sure," Helen agreed. "It's a lot of comparing pictures, really. Fortunately, I have a database that I've been compiling over the past five years of known and unknown children in the city and National Center for Missing and Exploited Children has a larger database for the nation. If she was filmed for any reason, I'm hoping we can locate her."

Alex pressed her lips together, and Helen could see the skepticism etched on her face. "What's the actual likelihood of that? I mean, if we could find her in the database, what are the chances of finding her in person?"

Helen sighed, slouching in the chair. "Slim," she admitted.

"And, the chances of her being in the database?" Alex continued.

Helen scoffed. "Even slimmer," she said. "We're basically taking in information and then hoping and praying at this point."

Alex sighed. "Has Nataliya been advised?"

"Not that I'm aware of. I think they want to introduce her to that reality slowly. Otherwise, I think it can be a little overwhelming to have to take in all at once."

"I can't even imagine," Alex murmured. "I wonder if Nataliya knows who abducted her sister."

"From what I understand, INTERPOL has a case on it."

"Really?" Alex said, perking up a little, her full attention suddenly on Helen as if she had just said something extremely interesting.

Brow furrowed, Helen nodded. "Sure, but good luck getting them to cooperate. They're almost worse that the feds."

Alex smiled. "The bureaucratic process on their end sucks, admittedly. However, I think I can still bypass that and get a little confirmation on the side." She made a note on her pad, looking up as the door opened a second time.

Both the attorney and the detective stood, offering a place to sit for the woman who almost seemed to creep fearfully into the room. Helen watched as her eyes darted to all corners, making sure it was safe before pushing the hood from her sweatshirt back down. The jeans the woman wore were stained and torn, but it was clear that those were the only ones she had.

"Nataliya, this is Detective Owens. She's going to be working on locating your sister through some child pornography data bases." Helen offered her hand, but retracted it when Nataliya seemed to skrink away. "And, this is Alex Cabot, she's the new ADA on the case."

Unlike Helen, Alex did not offer her hand. She merely looked at the woman before her, nodding her head softly, once. Nataliya looked her over, her eyes dancing over Alex, her youthful countenance. "What about Ms. Carmichael?" she asked, referencing Abbie.

"She's taken a federal assignment," Alex explained. "I'll be prosecuting the man who hurt you."

"Which one?" Nataliya scoffed.

Alex did not seem to miss a beat. "If I could, all of them." Her voice was firm and held with such conviction that Nataliya stopped, staring at the woman. They were roughly the same height, and Helen could have sworn she saw something between them. Whether it was by intent or by fluke, there was no doubt that the green prosecutor had said exactly what the foreign national had needed to hear in that moment of time.

"One who hurt me most already been prosecuted for his crimes. He is spending his life in Ukraine prison." Nataliya hung her head. "It still does not bring Sofi back."

"Sofi, your sister," Alex said. Nataliya nodded, placing her feet on the chair and resting her chin on her knees. "Tell me about her."

"She has spirit," Nataliya said, her eyes lighting up for the first time. "So kind. She used to bring home birds who could not fly. One time, little boy in class told her that his father beat him with belt, Sofi so mad, she tell his father very loudly so everyone hear if he beat his son again, she would take belt and beat father. We were four, it was few months before she was taken. But, she has heart. Mama always say she would grow up to change world _._ " Tears glistened in Nataliya's eyes, but she fought to not cry.

Slowly, Alex rested her hand on the table, palm up. "What kinds of things did you do together?" Alex asked.

Nataliya rested her hand on top of Alex's, squeezing softly. Alex returned the squeeze and held on, a touch pf physical support while talking about a distressing subject. Helen listened in silence as the two women talked, a picture already forming in her head about what kind of a child Sofiya had been. Of course, with her experiences being unknown, it was impossible to say what kind of an adult she was, if she was even an adult at all, but Helen had to think that the little girl would have done exactly what the twins' mother had thought – she would have changed the world. Helen genuinely hoped that they would find the young woman and help her to have that chance.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: As always, thank you for the reads and reviews. :)_

Ch 4.

 _Her mother's voice still echoed in her head. Loud, but no longer shrill. The more she learned the streets of her city, the more she took back power for good, the less of a hold her mother's voice had, even when the voice was no longer just inside her head._

Olivia

December 3, 2000

"No," Olivia said, holding up her finger as Alex stepped into the room, eyes wide at the irate detective on the phone. "Look, you can rant all you want, but my answer is still no." Sighing, the detective hung up, shoving the flip phone back into her pocket with a growl.

"I'm glad it's not me your arguing with," Alex mused. "Child?"

"No. That was Agent Reese over at the federal building. He wants the case information for Nataliya. They're going to do what they always do," Olivia grumbled, slouching in her chair.

Alex pursed her lips, looking down over the detective in that imposing way that she had. Olivia would still be suspicious of her if she had not bent over backwards to get them a warrant on another case. The other detectives were still leery of her motives, but Olivia thought that, after two weeks, she had the woman figured out. "Maybe not," the attorney said. "Next time he calls, feel free to give him my phone number. Maybe we can work something out that will leave him feeling like a winner."

"Feeling?" Olivia echoed.

"Mmm," Alex hummed, nodding. "I actually do need something from you. You may have heard, but the power's out at the DA's office, so the court house is swamped with ADAs looking to do their work."

Olivia pointed at the computer across from her. "El's out today. One of his kiddos is sick, so he's staying home."

"Great dad," Alex mused, sitting down. "How do I log into your system?"

"Uh, here. Just use my password." Olivia scrawled it down and pushed it over to Alex, watching as the attorney chuckled, typing it in. "If you can't be creative, be funny, right?" Olivia teased.

"Right," Alex agreed, smiling softly. "Do you happen to have the reports done on the Hamilton case yet? Liz is anxious to get that one filed."

"That's what I was working on before." Olivia groaned as her phone began to vibrate again. Pulling it from her pocket, she glanced at the number with a heavy sigh. "Well this. Benson."

"Detective, this is Agent Reese -"

Alex gestured for the phone as Olivia rolled her eyes. Brow raised, Olivia passed the phone over. "This is ADA Alexandra Cabot, to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?" Alex paused, as though listening. "Mmhm, I think I do understand the situation very well. You are impeding the investigation of my detective in a felony offense in the state of New York with your incessant calls. I trust she's given you the information she has been authorized to give, and if there is anything else you need regarding the Watts matter, you can contact me directly. This is an active case, Agent, that has already been handed over to the Office of the District Attorney. Any further requests to the matter need to be funneled through me."

Olivia stared at Alex, mouth agape. The woman really did have a brass set on her.

"Well, then I will ask the judge to hold your office in contempt, Agent. If you think that's a light charge, try spending the weekend in jail where all of the inmates know you're a fed." Alex sounded done with the argument already. "I am making only one plea offer in this case, and you are welcome to pass the offer along to Mister Watts and his attorney. If he pleads guilty to sexual assault two and tells SVU detectives any information he knows about persons who traffic in children as well as any information he may have on the whereabouts of Sofiya Andreiko, I will drop the remaining charges and he can do all of his time in federal lock up as part of a joint sentence with whatever case you're trying him for. That should be nice and cushy."

Pursing her lips, Alex listened the the agent who, from the noises Olivia could make out, sounded pissed off. "I don't care if you like it or if you don't. Quite frankly, I don't care if it works for you. My job is to prosecute sexual offenses in New York City, not figure out how the federal government is going to prosecute a human trafficker. It would be great to work with you, but you do not get to swipe this case out and ignore the voice of his victims at this level because you have failed to appropriately represent victims at your level." Alex hung up without further conversation, handing Olivia back her phone, the detective mutely staring at her.

After a few seconds, Olivia tucked her phone back in her pocket. "Impressive, counselor," she murmured. "Where did you learn the attitude?"

Alex chuckled. "I spent five years in Boston. I already know I'm good," she said with a smirk. "I've fought with my share of federal agents. He'll call Nora next and make demands, so if you don't mind, I've got a phone call of my own to make."

Almost transfixed, Olivia watched as Alex stepped outside of the squad room, her phone already pressed to her ear. Shaking her head, Olivia returned her focus to the case she had open, her fingers flying across the keyboard.

When Alex returned a few minutes later, she seemed confident. "I take it your call went well?" Olivia asked.

"Excellent. Nora's on board with my plea offer. Really, it does nothing in terms of sentencing that the federal case would not do, it merely requires him to tell you what he knows about obtaining a child. If nothing else, it might give us a better starting place to look for Sofiya. That seems to be Nataliya's primary concern. The feds are going to pull Watts off the streets, so I'll take what I can get in that place." Alex sat down at the desk, already clicking away. "I just have to see if – oh, perfect."

"What?" Olivia asked, jumping up and looking over Alex's shoulder, her excitement bubbling out of nowhere.

"My friend Hypatia works for INTERPOL. She finally emailed me back. See?" Alex clicked on the attached file and pulled up an INTERPOL case.

Olivia's mouth dropped. "Holy Christ, Alex," she said. "You have open access to INTERPOL?"

Alex laughed. "Yes," she said. "This one is the Andreiko case, all of the leads INTERPOL investigated as well as any clues they found, including interviews with the men they arrested."

"Uh, you can read that?" Olivia asked, staring at the foreign words.

"It's Russian, and, yes." Alex smiled. Most of the report was in English, but there were statements taken by law enforcement that were in the native script of the writer. "There's a certified translated copy if you would like." Alex scrolled down to the English translation.

"Wow," Olivia breathed. "That's pretty detailed. They really have no remorse, do they?"

"They plead down to a lesser offense for turning in their counterparts in America. The problem is, the counterparts are still at large. It looks like there's Russian born Ivan Karkarov and American born Robert Long who are the primary targets. I have DOBs if you want to run them."

"Would love to," Olivia said, darting back around to her own computer. "Okay, when you're ready."

"Karkarov is March twelve nineteen forty. He would have been thirty fivish when Sofiya went missing. Long is June six nineteen forty nine. Can we see if either is a known child predator?"

"Already on it," Olivia said. "Let's see. I have an arrest for Karkarov for failure to appear on a traffic ticket. Oh, Long's got a longer history. Assault. Mm. It says in eighty one he was arrested under suspicion of child abuse. The little boy he had at his home had several untreated broken bones. He was never charged, though, and I can't tell why."

Alex pursed her lips. "Linking him to the broken bones if the child didn't point the finger may have been the hang up."

"That's what I was thinking," Olivia said. "So sad. I'll see if I can track down the boy. He was six at the time. That puts him around twenty four now. If the kiddo was trafficked, maybe he can help point us."

Alex shrugged. "Maybe. Six is pretty young, isn't it? Do you think he'll remember?"

Olivia looked to Alex. "I remember being six."

"Oh," Alex said with a shrug, but her eyes drifted away from the detective, confusing Olivia. The hurt and vulnerability etched into the prosecutor's face was suddenly visible, and it was strange to see considering she had never seen it before.

Gently, Olivia reached forward. "What's wrong, Lex?" she asked.

Alex shook her head, the vulnerability clearing away as she smiled. "Nothing. You're right though, he might provide a good lead. Maybe the two encountered each other at some point." Her brow furrowed. "I wonder if he was trafficked, though. He really could have been Long's kid."

"It says Evan, the boy, was his adoptive son." Olivia's brow furrowed. "That doesn't mean it was a legitimate adoption, though."

"Where did he adopt the boy from?" Alex asked.

The detective shook her head. "I would have to go down to human services and check with them. Maybe look through their files." Olivia glanced up at the clock. "Their clerk is in the office until four. It's two-thirty now. I'll stay late to finish Hamilton tonight, but I can go to human services today and check out the files."

Alex smiled. "You want a helper?" she asked, closing the applications open on the computer. "I would love to do something other than stare at law books all day."

Olivia laughed. "Sure. Anything to please the prosecutor."

"You say that now," Alex teased, flashing Olivia a smile. "Just wait until you start hearing my demands."

Biting her lip, Olivia grabbed her jacket. "Yea, whatever, Cabot," she quipped, tugging her coat on and heading to the elevator. She could hear Alex's heels clicking behind her. The woman was surprisingly quick in heels, keeping up with the detective almost effortlessly.

In the elevator, Olivia leaned against the rail. "You really think we can locate Evan?"

Alex offered a goofy grin that Olivia recognized as a result of adrenaline. It made the detective laugh softly. "He's our lead right now. If we can give anything to Nataliya to show that we're putting honest effort into the search for her sister, Liv, it'll go a long way for her. Besides, if Evan was trafficked, he might actually want to contact his parents. How amazing would it be to reunite him?" Alex pressed her lips together, shifting her weight as though suddenly uncomfortable.

Olivia did not miss the silent cue. "Alex?" she questioned. "What's wrong?"

Shaking her head, the attorney shrugged. "I'm fine."

Carefully, Olivia reached over, resting her hand on Alex's arm. "If you need to talk," she said, her voice trailing off as the elevator door opened. Alex did not respond, so Olivia stepped out of the small box, the prosecutor following behind her to the detective's squad car.


	5. Chapter 5

Ch 5.

 _Sometimes, she visited the law library just for the sound. It was the sound of hundreds of words on a page. When she was little, she found solace at her local library, the books her greatest source of comfort in a vast and confusing world. As a child, she could travel on her imagination to any place in and out of the world. As an adult, the logical, clinical law books kept her grounded, reminded her that she lived in reality._

Alexandra

December 3, 2000

"Evan Long," Olivia said, waiting patiently for the clerk to type through her records. "His adoption would have occurred sometime before nineteen eighty one."

"Do you have a birth date?" the clerk asked.

"Not exact," Olivia said. "We're looking somewhere in either seventy four or seventy five. I have the info for the adoptive father, if that would help?"

The clerk chuckled. "That would do it." Olivia gave the woman the information on Robert Long, including his date of birth. The woman searched a few minutes, but she shook her head. "Nothing. The files that old haven't all been scanned in yet, though. I can put in a request, and they can get back to you."

"Actually, it's pretty important that we find the young man, if he's still alive. He might be a witness in a child trafficking case," Alex pleaded, the hardness in her eyes melting away as she looked to the clerk.

"You're welcome to head down and check. I'll get you guys a guest pass. That'll get you down there. Unfortunately, with budget cuts, you're on your own sorting through those cases. I wish I could be of more help." The clerk gave them a wishful smile and a sad shake of the head. Budget cuts. They all were more than well aware of the impact of budget cuts on the more services aspect of the city.

"Thank you," Alex murmured, following the clerk's directions to the elevator, her thoughts drifting as she waited for the mechanics to function. She had to wonder if Evan really was Robert's son or if he had been one of the trafficked children. There was question, then, too, if he knew who his real parents were.

Her thoughts continued to drift to her own family, her own life. She loved her parents, but there had always been a disconnect. She had not always been their child, and she had grown up wondering what it would be like to meet her birth mother. For seven years, she supposed the woman had cared for her, even if it was not to very high standards. After all, had it not been for the accident, she would still likely have been with her mother.

There were so many days when she wished she had something – a mysterious necklace, a note, a photograph, something. Her memory loss had been tied to a medical experience. Even if she had ever met her mother on the street after her adoption, she would not have known. But, for a trafficked child, she had to imagine that they would dream of their parents every day, dream of them to save them, to do what parents were supposed to do. She could not even begin to imagine the kind of pain that had to be.

"You okay?" Olivia asked.

Alex started, nodding. "Fine," she mused. "Just spacey."

Olivia's brow furrowed. "Do you, were you adopted?" she asked, her voice hesitant. Biting her lip, Olivia stepped towards Alex, a hand on her arm, tugging her to a corner of the room. "Alex?"

"Yes," Alex said. "When I was nine." She looked down at her shoes. "I haven't been in this building since the adoption was finalized. It – it feels so strange. I can't help thinking about it." She forced a reassuring smile. "I can't help but wonder if Evan knows, if it was a legitimate adoption, I mean."

Nodding, Olivia stroked her friend's arm. "If you need to talk about any of it, Alex, I'm here any time."

"Thanks, Liv, but I'm okay," Alex murmured. "Where do we start?" She stared around the room. There were mobile shelves with spinning handles lined up through most of the main room. It seemed as if it were a daunting task held before them, and Alex felt her hopes dashed.

"The seventies?" Olivia quipped. "Start at eighty one?"

Alex nodded, stepping forward, her fingers tracing the writing on the shelves. "Here," she said after a checking a few shelves. "Eighty-one through eighty-two. We'll start with Long and see if there's anything there. I suppose this would be a lot less complex if we knew the child's original last name."

"We'll assume it's under Long for now. Maybe they spelled it wrong, though. Robert or Long," Olivia suggested, stepping forward and looking through the files. "You wanna try Lung and I'll look at Long?"

"Yea," Alex murmured, her voice soft, her eyes glued to the higher corner in the nineteen eighty one section.

"What?" Olivia said, turning, a file already in her hand. Alex barely noticed until the detective waved the file in front of her face. "Hey, earth to Cabot. What's up?"

"Oh," Alex murmured, shaking her head. Carefully, she reached her hand up and pulled a file from the shelf. "Cabot comma A-L."

Olivia set her file down, her hands covering Alex's free hand. "Hey, Alex? Is that yours?"

Alex nodded. "I think so," she whispered. "I – I think."

"Come on," Olivia said, putting the other file away and guiding Alex from between the shelves to a small table with a tiny desk lamp in one corner. The detective sat the attorney down, setting the file in front of her. "It's up to you, Alex." She rested her hand on Alex's back.

Dazed, Alex looked up at her. "I don't know, Liv. I've never – I've never really looked into it. I supposed that if my parents had wanted me, they wouldn't have abandoned me."

"It's up to you, Alex. You don't have to. You have wonderful adoptive parents," Olivia said, pulling up a chair beside the attorney.

Alex chuckled. "How would you know?" she quipped.

Olivia laughed. "I've met you. It doesn't matter where you came from. Look at where you are. You're a talented prosecutor with a bright future and some intense ambitions. You've got a natural talent, kid, but it took support to get your ego that big."

"Gee, thanks," Alex chuckled, her mood considerably improved. "But, really, thank you. You have no idea how much it helps to have someone else tell me that my ego is big as if that's a good thing."

"Today it is," Olivia said with a mischievous grin. The smile faltered, though, as Alex stared down. "What do you know about the case?"

Alex sucked her lower lip. "I always figured, based on where they found me, that my mother was a prostitute. It just kills me sometimes, you know, that no one stepped forward. They printed my picture in the newspaper, front page for two days. But, no one claimed me. It was like I came from nowhere or, at the very least, somewhere where they didn't want me back. And, I couldn't understand that as a child. If I'm honest, I don't understand it now." She could feel a familiar anxiety bubbling in her stomach, and it made her head spin.

"Oh, Alex," Olivia murmured, wrapping an arm around the blonde's shoulders and hugging her gently. "I'm so sorry. But, it sounds like the Cabots stepped in to be great parents."

Alex nodded. "They are," she agreed. "I was so lucky. I couldn't have asked for better."

Olivia smiled. "I'm so glad, Alex. You deserve it."

"Thank you," Alex whispered. She licked her lips. "We should really find Evan. Thank you for this." She indicated the file before them as she spoke. "I don't think I can go through the file, though. I just don't think I want to know."

"Sure," Olivia murmured, nodding her head. "We'll put it back. It'll be okay. Why don't I come down tomorrow and look for Evan's case? Today, just go home and take care of yourself."

Nodding, Alex walked out with Olivia, opting to walk alone to the subway rather than have company. She could feel Olivia watching her as she walked, but she was so lost in the mess of her thoughts that she scarcely cared. There had been handfuls of times when she wished her mother could have seen her accomplishments. The first had been her first violin recital as a child. She had been eight, barely playing the violin for a year, but she had liked it because she had been able to communicate in so many ways with it. Until she mastered English, so many statements were lost on her, and her needs were sometimes lost on the adults in her life. But, music had not cared about any of that, and Alex had fallen passionately in love.

The second had been her graduation from high school. Despite her language barrier and the fact that she was seven when she went to school for the first time, she had graduated high school at the age of fifteen, a straight A student and president of the debate team. It had been a moment of intense pride for her considering how far behind she had been just eight years before. Her parents, Claire and Richard, had been there and had been supportive along with other members of her adoptive family, but Alex had found herself feeling hollow inside even as she accepted her diploma, as though something were missing.

Of course, every graduation following, she had been motivated to achieve more in the hopes that she might one day meet her mother. Even if the woman was a prostitute, she had reasoned, Alex had never wanted to risk disappointing her. In some ways, she struggled with feeling that she might be a disappointment anyway which would explain why the woman had never claimed her. It was that conflict, though, that had helped Alex to be driven and to work hard.

A knock on the door of her apartment interrupted her thoughts, and she peeked through the hole in the door, confused by who might be there. "Olivia," she murmured, surprised to see the detective there with a paper bag in one hand, drinks in the other, and an awkward smile. "Come in. Let me help."

As Alex's manners kicked in, she took the bag from Olivia, the scent hitting her as she realized it was Chinese take out. That seemed to be the go to for the detectives on a hard case, and Alex had to wonder what the motivation was to bring it to Alex's apartment.

"I figured you could use some dinner, and, maybe, hopefully, some company?" Olivia said, her voice slightly inflected as if she were unsure of herself.

Alex nodded. "Actually, I'd like that," she said with a warm smile. "Let me get plates."

Olivia set the drinks on the table, following Alex to the kitchen. "Where do you keep serving spoons?" she asked, staring around the immaculate kitchen.

"Oh," Alex murmured, pointing to the appropriate drawer. "I'm sorry for the mess. I wasn't expecting company."

Laughing, the detective sighed. "If you think this is messy -" She shook her head, setting the spoons on the table near the bag. Olivia's eyes danced as she set out the food before pausing. "Hey, what were you looking at?" she asked, gesturing to the tea cup and photo book open on the coffee table.

Alex flushed. "Pictures. I guess I was feeling a bit nostalgic."

"Can I see?" Nodding, Alex retrieved the photo book and handed it to Olivia.

"So, these are the Cabots?" Olivia asked, pointing to a photo taken before the court house where a miniature Alex was standing between two adults, her face with an uncertain smile. The adults were crouched down looking as happy as could be as they each wrapped an arm around Alex. The woman was pressing a kiss into Alex's cheek.

"Yes," Alex said. "Claire and Richard. That's the first photo I have of me. It was taken the day I was adopted. They're the only parents I've ever known."

Olivia offered a warm smile. "They look like they love you very much."


	6. Chapter 6

Ch 6.

 _With no lumbering giant, her sleep became real. The nights seemed warmer, even in the dead of winter._

Nataliya

December 25, 2000

She turned over, pulling the cover over her head with a moan. "No, please," she whimpered.

"Nat, it's Stacy," the soft voice persisted. "You have visitors. They're waiting in the kitchen. I think you'll enjoy seeing them."

Nataliya sat up, the blankets falling away from her body. In the two months she had been able to experience freedom, one of the first things she had done was to acquire pajamas that would cover her. The tee shirt had been a gift from one of the detectives working her case. He had gotten her one that had the NYPD badge on the front. The flannel pants had been from the shelter workers. "Thank you, Stacy," she mumbled, pushing the sleep from her eyes.

She never slept well at night, drifting off sometime between two and three in the morning, sometimes later. It had always been nighttime when he had come to her by himself, demanding that his appetites be met, forcing her to do things she would never have consented to. When she slept early, she had nightmares. The best way, she had discovered, to eliminate those nightmares was to not sleep. But, that had taken its toll on her as well, and she was constantly sleep deprived as she woke with the rest of the women in the shelter, sometime between seven and eight in the morning.

That morning, it seemed, she had been afforded the rare opportunity to sleep in. Maybe it was because it was Christmas. Nataliya grabbed a pair of jeans from the drawer beside her bed and a sweatshirt, ducking into the bathroom. It was Christmas, and she wondered what her parents were doing that year. There were probably two presents waiting their intended recipients who would not open them that year. Every year, there was something for Sofiya, her parents holding on to the hope that she might stumble in, their gift from God. Every year, it was a present that had gone unopened. As a child, Nataliya had made an ornament for her sister each year until she was seventeen. It had staved the grief, but after twelve years of wondering and hoping, of looking for the girl with the matching eyes around every corner, Nataliya had begun to believe her sister had been killed by the men who had taken her.

When the detective had helped her call her parents for the first time in two years, Nataliya had broken down, sobbing on the phone with her equally hysterical mother and her relieved father. She had omitted much of the abuse she had suffered, unable to burden them further, merely telling them that she had trusted the wrong people but that she was getting closer to figuring out what happened to Sofiya. Nataliya was, technically, the younger of the two, born almost three hours after Sofiya. It had never been a problem between the two for the five years they were together, but in the older twin's absence, Nataliya had often felt alone and vulnerable. Even small as they had been, Sofiya had climbed into Nataliya's bed when she was having a nightmare and curl up with her sister, silencing the monsters of her dreams. When one of the second year boys had pushed Nataliya down after school, it had been Sofiya to throw a rock at him in protection, hitting his head and causing a fuss between the parents. When asked why she had done it, Sofiya's one word response had been _spravedlyvist,_ justice in terms of equity. Despite leaning towards an academic personality, the child had always been a spitfire, and Nataliya wondered what that meant for her in terms of where she was as an adult.

As she wandered into the great room at the shelter, she could not help but to smile. The two women sitting on the couch talking had become two of the most familiar faces Nataliya had in the country. The detective noticed her first as she smiled and waved the Ukrainian national over.

"Nat," Alex murmured, smile in her tone. "Stacy said we woke you. I'm so sorry."

"It is okay," she responded. "Thank you for coming. Happy Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Alex and Olivia chorused.

Nataliya flushed. "I mean merry," she said. "Can I get you chocolate? We have the instant kind."

Alex shook her head. "Sit down. We have a couple of presents for you."

"Really?" Nat asked, her eyes tearing up as she sat beside the prosecutor. "You do not – you don't." She sighed. "I have nothing to give in return."

"You don't need to give anything in return, Nat," Olivia said, pulling a large bag from behind the arm of the sofa.

Hesitant, Nataliya looked at the bag. "Thank you," she whispered.

Alex smiled. "I don't know the traditions in the Ukraine, but it's okay for you to open it. I'd like to see if everything is something you want."

Nat nodded as she pulled the first layer of tissue paper off, pulling a jacket from the bag. Standing, she pulled it on over her clothes and smiled. "It's so warm," she laughed. "I am like marshmallow in chocolate."

Alex laughed as Olivia shook her head. "It looks great," the blonde attorney agreed. "Do you like it?"

"I love it. Thank you so much," she whispered in return, her hands running over the fabric. "You did not have to."

Nodding, Alex smiled. "I did. You need one. Winters in New York are not always pleasant. If you want to or need to leave for whatever reason, I cannot, in good conscience, allow you to stand at the bus stop in little more than a sweatshirt."

"I would have pants," Nat said, her brow furrowed.

Olivia laughed. "I should hope," she teased. "Alex means to keep warm, you need more than jeans and a sweatshirt."

"Oh," Nat replied. "Thank you." She peeled the coat off and folded it neatly, placing it where she had been sitting on the couch. Carefully, as though everything was glass that may shatter quickly, she knelt before the bag and tugged out the rest of the neatly folded clothes: a pair of fleece pajama pants, two long sleeved and one short sleeved shirt, and another pair of jeans. At the bottom of the bag were thick, winter socks and a pair of boots that were both stylish and suitable for the winter. Tears ran like rivers down Nat's cheeks as she stared at the things she had been brought. Practical, she knew the jacket had been Olivia's choosing, but everything else screamed of Alex's sense of fashion: soft, timeless, and colourful.

She did not realize as she cried that Alex had knelt beside her until the prosecutor wrapped her arms around her. Without thinking, Nataliya returned the hug, crying into the woman's shoulder. Her family in the Ukraine was not wealthy, but they made enough to get by fairly comfortably in a city like Kiev. That was, itself, no small task. Even Nataliya had been fortunate enough to find a reasonably priced loft working as she had after school.

" _Use garazd_ ," Alex whispered. "It's okay."

" _Tse bude_ ," Nat answered, pulling away. "You speak Ukrainian?"

Alex nodded. "I do," she murmured. "I have one more thing for you if you're up to it." Nat nodded, her hands folded in her lap. Alex leaned back and pulled her briefcase closer to her. "It's not very big, but I hope that it means something." She pulled a carefully wrapped package from her bag and handed it to Nataliya, almost, the Ukrainian noticed, with reverence.

Slowly, Nat peeled back the tape, revealing a thin, plain box. She carefully pulled the lid free and looked inside. Something rectangular was wrapped in tissue paper, but on top of it was a beautiful rosary, the beads a carved wood, the cross clearly hand done. Stunned Nataliya pulled her own rosary from under the sweatshirt, fingering the wood in her fingers. "Tato made these to give to us when we were old enough to understand what we were doing in the church," she whispered. "How did you -"

"He sent it to the office in hopes that God would help guide you to your sister, Nat. Open the rest." Alex swallowed, gently holding the rosary in her palm as Nataliya opened the rest of the present.

She pulled the picture frame from its box and stared at the photograph inside. "That's her," she whispered.

"It's a composite," Alex said. "It means that the people at the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children took the photographs your mother mailed us of you and Sofiya as well as those photographs Olivia took of you and made Sofiya look older, like she's in her late twenties. Olivia and the other people at the police department are using that image to try and match her to missing persons cases as well as driver's licenses throughout the nation to see if we can locate Sofiya like that."

Nat's eyes danced with happiness as she looked between both women. "Thank you. It's perfect." Nataliya traced the outline of the composite, her fingers grazing over the printed brown hair, the cheek bones and jawline of what her sister could look like in that moment.

After a few minutes of silence, Nataliya looked to both women. "I cannot express, in any language, how much this means to me. Thank you so much. You have done so much for me and my family. I cannot thank you enough."

Alex smiled, pouring the rosary back into Nataliya's hands. "Don't give up faith in us," she said. "We'll keep looking until we find her, no matter how long it takes, Nat. Just don't lose hope."

Nataliya nodded. "I won't," she promised. "I can't. If I can't bring her home, I, at least, will know what happened to her so that she can be honoured appropriately." Her eyes seemed glued to the composite in her lap, but she could not even try to pry herself from it. After all, it was the closest thing she had to what her sister might look like, lavender and silver eyes staring up at her. Even as twins, they had never been mirror images of each other. Their similarities were many, but they were limited. They were the same height with the same rod straight brown hair and the same sliver dollar eyes, an anomaly, genetically, to be sure since their parents both had brown eyes. But, Sofiya's jawline had always been different. Her cheeks were set a little lower than Nataliya's. Not identical twins, but there was never any question that they were sisters.

" _Nataliya, if you would like, the detectives who have no family here to spend Christmas with have Christmas at my home. You are welcome to join us,_ " Alex said, her Ukrainian hesitant as she clearly tried to recall her conjugations.

Blinking slowly, Nataliya nodded. " _I would very much like that,_ " she answered, her native tongue smooth on her lips. . " _You do not speak Ukrainian much?_ "

" _Nee,_ " Alex answered, shaking her head. "Russian, whenever I call home. But, Ukrainian, no." She chuckled softly.

Nat nodded. "Russian is mostly spoken in Kiev. Many people speak both, but to a stranger, if you speak Russian, they will almost always understand."

"I'll remember that," Alex mused.

"Are you from Ukraine?"

Alex shook her head. "My family is Russian," she said, biting her lower lip. Nataliya could sense there was more to the story than that. She had sensed, from the moment that she met the prosecutor that she had a sad tale to tell, but she knew the value of keeping a secret, so she did not pry.

"It is close enough," Nataliya said, though that did not necessarily resonate with politics. Still, for the woman who had shown her nothing but kindness, dedication, and real fire, it was close enough.


	7. Chapter 7

Ch 7.

 _In the dead of the night, something tugged at her soul, something she could not explain._

Alexandra

December 31, 2000

Leaning against the door way, Alex sighed. "Do you ever leave work?" she asked the detective who had her head bent over the case file, her eyes darting back and forth between something that Alex could not see.

"I guess not," Olivia mused, looking up with a warm smile. "What time is it?"

"Eleven," Alex replied. "Everyone else is celebrating the New Years with their families."

"My mother is already smashed," Olivia replied before her eyes went wide and she quickly turned her attention back to the file in her hand.

Quietly, Alex moved to stand behind Olivia. There were pictures laid out inside the file, the ones of the missing girl. There were the Polaroid photographs of Sofiya and Nataliya playing together in a garden as well as several of both of them beside each other, looking very proper. For a moment, Alex was enraptured, her eyes drifting lazily over the photographs. Shaking her head, she rested a hand on Olivia's shoulder. "I think I already knew," she whispered.

Olivia turned and looked up at the prosecutor. "Really?" she asked.

Alex nodded. "You came to my house for Christmas. It was an open invitation, Olivia, and I'm glad you came, but you came nonetheless. Your mom's alive, and you chose to spend time away from her. I figured there was a reason." Alex's fingers, as though of their own accord, brushed Olivia's cheek, the detective's head twisting to meet her skin.

Slowly, softly, Alex's hand drifted back to Olivia's shoulder, her eyes moving over the photographs. "That's child Sofiya?" she asked, having only seen the composite that the artists had made.

"Yes," Olivia replied. "I can't help but think she looks familiar. I hate to think of why with so many child trafficking cases that we've run across in this unit as well as child death cases. But, there's something about this girl that strikes me. I can't stop thinking about it."

Alex just stared at the pictures. There was the massive jump in age, from five in the photographs to twenty eight in the composite, merely a thought as to what she might look like if she were still living that day. There were a handful of factors that could be wrong relating to nutritional changes as well as environmental changes, but the basis looked like most women Alex had ever met from the Soviet area. "Do you wonder what happened to her? What her experiences were?"

"I'm trying not to imagine," Olivia admitted.

Nodding, Alex fell silent for several moments. Finally, she spoke, but her voice was quiet. "I've been having this recurring nightmare, every night since Christmas," she admitted. "I'm a little kid, and I'm in this big, dark box. I think it's a shipping container. This man opens the box, and it's nighttime. He demands that I go with him, promises me food if I go, and I'm so hungry that even though I know it's bad, I still go. We get into this car, and we start driving. He gives me candy to eat. When we stop, this faceless man pulls me out of the car and pushes me into a house. I fall down, and he becomes angry, but I can't understand what he's saying. And, and then, he whips me with his belt, and I wake up screaming."

Olivia turned around, her eyes searching Alex's as she spoke. "That's very graphic, Alex," she murmured. "Do you think that's something that happened to you? You said you didn't know your parents."

Alex shook her head. "No. As best I can tell, I was born in America. Or, at the very least, I came over with my mother. There's not a mother in that dream. Besides, I don't think I've ever been whipped. I think I would remember that."

"Be careful not to relate too much to this case, Alex," Olivia cautioned. "It will wear you down." Gently, Olivia wrapped her arms around Alex's waist, resting her head against the woman's stomach. Alex took a deep, controlled breath, her hand on Olivia's head, fingers absently playing with the detective's hair. "It'll be okay."

"One day," Alex agreed. Olivia's arms fell away, and Alex sat down on the detective's desk. "Tonight, though, let's go out and do something. Times Square is already packed, but we can go to a bar and toast the New Year together. Come on."

Olivia smiled. "Alright," she said, closing the file and tucking it in her desk.

"Wait," Alex said, stopping Olivia before she could lock her drawers. "Do you think I can keep one? A picture, I mean, in my brief case until we find her?"

The detective paused. "Alex, don't attach yourself," she warned.

"I know," Alex said. "I'm not. I just – I want to remember why I'm doing this even when the days seem rough."

Olivia obliged Alex, pulling out the case file one more time, letting Alex pick a photograph of the two sisters together, sitting on a park bench eating ice cream, a large fountain rising up behind them. Behind that, city buildings rose into the sky. Except for the fact that everything was so much more ornate, it could have been a scene from a park in New York.

Alex tucked the photograph away and Olivia locked the file. "Come down to Pete's," Olivia said.

"That's a cop bar," Alex mused. "I heard they don't take to civilians stopping in all that well. Kind of halts the conversation."

Olivia shook her head. "You're with me. Besides, you're part of the SVU family now, and that means you're blue no matter how much you hate it." She offered a cheeky grin, and Alex laughed.

They drank in the New Year, celebrating with a toast to a brighter future for all. Alex kept a level head as she drank, easily able to keep up with the seasoned police detective which seemed to impress the brunette.

"Not many women can match me drink for drink," Olivia mused.

Alex chuckled. "You must not drink with many Russians," Alex replied.

Olivia smiled. "Tell me about you," she said. "I know you were adopted when you were nine and you have no memories of your parents. But, what else is there about you?"

Alex pressed her lips together. "Not much," she said. "I'm not really remarkable. What do you want to know?"

"Why law school?" Olivia asked.

Alex shrugged. "I don't know. My mother's an ICU pediatrician. My father's a marketing exec with a Fortune 500. I had big shoes to fill. I always like reading and debate, so law school seemed natural. When I got there, I loved it, so I stayed in the field. What about you? Why a cop?"

Olivia stared at the table for a moment, picking at the varnish with her nail. "My mother was raped nine months before I was born. I've watched what it did to her, what it did to me. I'm her rapist's child, and it kills her to look at me some days. She says I have his eyes." Her picking became a little more violent until Alex cupped Olivia's hands in hers, forcing her to stop.

Alex's fingers moved over Olivia's as though working through each and every nerve until Olivia's hands fell still, the nervous energy gone. "You're protecting women from the experience your mother had and children from the experience you had," Alex murmured. "That's very noble of you, Olivia."

Olivia nodded. "I keep trying to think that, but I think it's because I'm more like him. I'm violent."

"How so?" Alex asked.

"I live for the chase, to catch the perp, to make the arrest. It makes me feel good when I slam the table with my hand while interviewing a perp. I feel good intimidating him," Olivia admitted, her head hung low.

Alex nodded. "I think, in some ways, I feel good, too. I watch you stalk them in the interview room, and I think 'thank God there are stronger women out there than I who can rein in the evil in this world.' I envy that about you."

Olivia smiled. "I envy that you are not like that," she said, playing with Alex's knuckles, rolling her fingers. "You can damn people with your words, and that seems so much more powerful than damning someone with your actions."

Alex smiled. "I'm glad you think so," she said, watching their hands as Olivia absently toyed with each bone. "What are you thinking about?"

Olivia shook her head, dropping Alex's hands and retracting her own. "Nothing," she murmured. "Wondering if my mother's okay. Wondering if I'll ever be okay. I don't know my father. Neither do you. Do you ever feel like a piece of you is somehow missing?" Olivia asked as she bit her lip.

With a thoughtful nod, Alex played with her empty glass. "I guess," she murmured. "Sometimes. Sometimes, I don't think it matters, but those parts of my childhood I remember, Olivia, were supportive and loved. The people who became my parents are amazing. You had significantly more negative memories than I do. I don't know if knowing who your father is would have changed any of that. Maybe it would have made it worse. Maybe he would have asked for partial custody. If he was willing to hurt your mother the way he did, he might also have been willing to strike you."

"You're right," Olivia agreed. "I kind of wish I was normal."

Alex laughed. "You and me, both," she mused. Sighing, Alex looked at the table, shaking her head. When she looked up again, Olivia was watching her, her brow pinched just so, as if she were trying to figure the prosecutor out. The way Olivia looked at her, though, the way she seemed to be examining her made the breath in her throat freeze.

"I think it would be nice to know where I came from," Alex whispered, her breathing strained. She felt as though she were being examined, opened up like a body at the M.E.'s office or a lie told by a defendant in the interrogation room at the police department. "Even if those beginnings weren't that great."

After a few seconds, Olivia nodded, never breaking the intense stare she had going on. "Yea," she finally said, breaking the gaze. "Let me walk you home. The cabs are going to be too busy, and I want to make sure you get home safely."

Alex smiled. "Thank you," she murmured.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Thank you big time for the reads and the reviews. I am glad you are all enjoying it so far. I hope you continue to enjoy. :)_

Ch 8.

 _She made a living lying to people. Not quite. She made a living connecting the dots. It just so happened that to unearth many of those dots, she had to employ deceit._

Helen

January 9, 2001

Biting her cheek, she sighed as she stared at the computer screen before her. It was the most disturbing part of her job, but she had to make sure that she got as many facial pictures as possible, both of the child and of the perpetrator, if she could. Sometimes, it was impossible to capture the rapist's face, and while she knew it was deliberate of the abusers, it also frustrated her to no end. Perhaps it was unhealthy, but she wanted to track every single adult participant in child pornography and make sure each person remained jailed permanently.

"Hey, Helen," a voice said behind her, startling her. Quickly, she paused the video and turned off the monitor, never knowing who was interrupting her. More so, she just did not want those haunting images to stay burning into the screen.

"Adam," she breathed. "Hi. What's up?"

"I just wanted to give you those composites you asked for. The seven, nine, and fifteen on the Andreiko case and the twelve fourteen and eighteen on the Swens case. Carrie said she would have the Smith and Wild cases done by the end of the week."

Standing, Helen took the composites from Adam and laid them out on the table in the corner of her office. Carefully, she picked up the Swens child composites. Jordan Swens was an African American boy who went missing shortly after his parents' divorce. He had been eleven at the time. Because his father had gone missing, too, it was assumed he was in his custody. When his father's body had been found, but not Jordan's, the case had been moved over to her for fear that he had been trafficked.

And, of course, there was the Andreiko case. That had been a known trafficking case from the start, so the mystery was really more on where the girl was at that time. With INTERPOL sharing more information about the investigation through the DA's office, Helen had been able to piece together a timeline between Sofiya being picked up in Kiev to her being trafficked to New York. With the help of the SVU detectives, she was going through shipping logs for the docks from nineteen seventy seven to nineteen seventy eight. It was a slim lead, but if they could get anything, she was going to push for it.

Carefully, Helen studied the aging process from the original pictures to the composites hypothesizing what the person would look like at their present age. Jordan's composites relied not only on the measurements taken from the pictures but from elements of pictures of both of his parents. Sofiya had been created using her twin sister's likeness. It was so strange to watch children age through a system of hypothesis and possibility. Realistically, there were factors that could change what the two looked like as adults. If the biological information was incorrect or if there were other factors including surgery, accidents, or genetic diseases that altered growth or stunted change in any aspect. But, usually, the composites were good.

She did not like the Andreiko composites, though. Many Eastern European women, especially those from the Ukraine and Russia, had similar features. Then again, dimensions were notoriously difficult to obtain from Polaroids, so she knew Carrie had relied heavily on the sister's information. Nataliya Andreiko was a beautiful woman, and they were twins, so she could understand where it became rational to use her features and apply them as they aged the five year old. Helen only hoped it was enough. She would spend the next few hours scanning the composites into the system and linking them to the missing persons case before running them through the system for any matches on known exploited children. If she was lucky, it would match. If she was unlucky, the two would still be names on the wind.

She started with the Swens case. There were notoriously fewer African American boys being trafficked and abused than there were European girls, although that did not make their plight any less significant. Helen just hoped that a smaller list of pictures to go through would yield a match sooner. Of course, even if no match was found by the computer, she would go through each image of each boy herself to make certain that the perimeters the computer was limited to had not erroneously eliminated a match. There was a reason her husband and her very rarely saw each other. With his schedule and hers, they crossed paths more frequently on cases than anything else.

As the computer program began running the Swens composites, Helen looked over the aging Sofiya. It was one thing to meet the distraught parents. It was another thing to hear a story of how the sister of the girl had grown up and followed her sister over to America only to be trafficked herself. She could not even imagine, though she had heard stories from detectives in other units about siblings, sisters especially, who tried to rescue each other out of slavery only to wind up in just as frightening a situation.

"The degree to which this kind of thing occurs is terrifying," a voice behind her said, startling her. She had not realized that she had left the door open, and she turned, her eyes meeting the woman behind her. The detective offered a warm smile. "Hey, Owens. Sorry to sneak up on you, but Adam said you had the new composites?"

"I do," Helen answered. "Andreiko, right?"

"Yea," Olivia answered, her hands tucked in her pockets. "Mind if I take a look? Something about this whole thing has really been bothering me."

Helen nodded, handing the other composites over. "The more eyes, the better the chance of us finding this girl. Do you have any leads?"

Olivia shook her head. "Nothing new. I'm still following up on Evan Long, but I'm not coming up with anything. If he was legitimately adopted, it wasn't in the U.S." She sighed, thumbing through the composites, studying the features as if she were not all in the conversation.

"What about Robert?" Helen asked, recalling an update she had received via email back in December from the detective. "Have you managed to get a lead on him?"

Olivia sighed. "He's wanted by INTERPOL. If he's even still in the U.S, I'll consider us lucky. My guess is he went to some non-ex country," she said, referring to non-extraditable countries, places that would refuse to send a criminal back to the wanted country. In addition, there were places that were so against corporal punishment that they would not return persons wanted if the country charging them with a crime intended to charge them with a death penalty statute. Long likely qualified.

"Can they even do that?" Helen asked.

Olivia shrugged. "I think they would argue that because he's suspected of capital punishment eligible offenses in the U.S and that INTERPOL is likely to turn him over to us that they won't turn him over to INTERPOL. It rides a fine political standard."

"What about the other countries that want to charge him?" Helen asked.

Olivia shrugged. "He managed to stay out of the Ukraine long enough that capital punishment has been abolished. Otherwise, Romania abolished the death penalty in '89 and Russia hasn't used it since '96. They still have it in their statute, but it's basically abolished."

"Basically," Helen repeated.

"It's a different legal issue entirely if someone dies in custody," Olivia said.

"You know a lot about the death penalty."

Olivia laughed. "Alex does. I just listen. She's been researching on her end, preparing for if we do find him. I'm getting worried about her."

"Does she believe in the death penalty?" Helen asked, wondering about the ADA she had met about a month before. The woman had been compassionate, but even Helen had seen the fire that drove her soul.

The other detective nodded. "I think if she could be there, she would. She has a real vendetta against evil in all its many forms."

"Makes you wonder what happened to her," Helen mused. "What about you? Do you think we should execute people?"

Olivia shrugged. "There's no place for that kind of evil in the world, no doubt. But, I seriously question whether killing someone who is evil is any less evil an act. I don't know. I guess I waver between the two." She smiled tightly. "Ask me again when we find him."

"Fair enough." Helen watched as Olivia froze, staring at the composite of seven year old Sofiya Andreiko. "I swear I've seen this child before." She flipped through to the image of the nine year old and then back to the five year old. "Every time I look at the pictures, I am so sure she's familiar, but I can't remember how. I've thought back to all of the trafficking cases I helped with, and I don't remember her."

"What about a non-trafficking case?" Helen asked. "Maybe a traffic accident or a child abuse where you responded to the 9-1-1? Before you were a detective."

Olivia's brow furrowed as she stared at the original Polaroid. "A 9-1-1 call," she murmured, closing her eyes as if trying to remember and call up a specific call.

Helen could relate. She looked at these photographs and thought back to her street days. She imagined children opening doors to her, frightened eyes staring up because Mommy and Daddy were fighting in the kitchen. She saw the kids in the back seats of cars at a collision scene, some conscious and terrified, others unconscious. Still more, there were the lifeless children for whom response had been too late. She recalled carrying the body of a little girl from her room in the back of the house to where the paramedics were at the front of the house, the house too cramped to get people in the back. She remembered finding out the next day that the girl had coded in the back of the bus. But, Lorena had been Hispanic, not Eastern European.

Shaking her head, Olivia's brow furrowed. "I don't know," she whispered. "There were so many calls, so many children, all of them afraid." She picked up the composites again, looking them over. "I wish I knew. Can I keep these? I'll put them in the case file."

"Yea, sure. That would be great. I'll let you know if the computer gets a hit off them. Let me know if something jars your memory?"

"Absolutely," Olivia murmured, disappearing with the images, her head still bent, still looking at the composites. The detective was just as dedicated as she was, just as driven to find answers.

It had surprised Helen, working with two women who were so driven to find this one missing person. Olivia was working to hide her own secrets. Helen knew because she was the same way. Alex, on the other hand, Helen thought she was working to atone for her sins, and that made Helen ever the more curious. Nevertheless, the progress made in the past three months was leaps and bounds compared to the usual progress in these kinds of cases, and Helen knew it was because she was not the only person working through sleepless nights.


	9. Chapter 9

Ch 9.

 _It was those hours between the darkness and the dawn that kept her the most awake. Her sleep had been made restless by some unknown demon as it toyed with her heart and her head._

Alexandra

January 11, 2001

She cringed, rubbing her temples as she blinked away the sleep.

"When was the last time you slept?" Olivia asked as she pushed Alex's lap top away from the table in front of her and sat down on the table, forcing Alex to pay attention to her instead of whatever work she was doing on her electronic maid.

Alex shrugged. "I sleep," she protested. "It's just not relaxing." Alex sighed, shaking her head. There were dark spots under her eyes. During the day, she hid them with make up, but at nearly eight in the evening, the make up had since been rubbed off by fingers trying to stave the exhaustion that she was feeling.

Olivia frowned. "Alex," she whispered, her fingers touching Alex's cheek. "That's not healthy. What's going on? Is it that nightmare, still?"

"That and others," Alex admitted. She pressed her lips together.

"What are you researching?" Olivia asked, pulling the computer onto her lap and looking over the documents. "Alex, don't you think you're getting a little too into this case? What is this?"

"I don't know," Alex said. She retrieved her computer from the detective's lap and set it aside before she laid her head on Olivia's knee. Olivia's hand rested on top of her head, her fingers brushing through her hair. She felt relaxed, closing her eyes with a soft groan. "It's part of this dream I keep having."

"About a statue?" Olivia asked, twisting Alex's hair between her fingers.

"Sort of," Alex murmured. "I'm sitting under the tree with a book, and this car drives by real slow. I see it again sometime later, maybe another day, and I know I keep seeing it, every time I'm at the park. It's a blue sedan. Then, one day, this guy gets out of the passenger seat and he comes up to me. He's just talking, and then he takes my hand and I walk with him back to the car. I start screaming, but he shoves me into the car and closes the door. That statue is the last thing I see out the window before he covers my face with a shirt."

"Why are you looking up the statue?" Olivia asked, her brow furrowed.

Alex shrugged. "I don't know. It's so specific a dream, I keep wondering if it means something. I keep thinking about the accident, you know? I've never tried to find someone before in my life, Liv. I always wanted to know my mother, sure, but I've been terrified of finding her. I keep wondering if maybe these are memories. What if that box is where we lived? Maybe it's not a shipping container. Maybe it's a basement. I've been going over old cases, Abbie's cases, and – well, I guess it's not uncommon. I mean, my mom, she was a prostitute. Maybe that's where she lived, crashed. I keep wondering if the sedan is the car from the accident."

"But, you're, what, thirty? Alex, how can you be sure these are even memories? You said you had amnesia. It's been twenty years." Olivia looked down just as Alex looked up, grey eyes meeting brown. Against her face, Alex felt Olivia's thigh twitch. Alex swallowed, blinking back her tears rapidly. She did not cry in front of people.

"Alex, I'm sorry. You have every right to want to find your mother." Olivia's thumb gently brushed at an escaped tear.

Alex sat up, folding herself up in the chair. Everyone else had gone home that night, and the SVU offices at the sixteenth precinct remained empty. "I don't even care if I find her, Liv. It never used to matter to me. She was – she's been dead to me ever since she didn't come looking. But, what did she call me? I picked the name Alexandra from a television show I watched while I was in the hospital." She shook her head. "I doubt that was what she called me. Maybe Katya or Vera or Anna. I can't help but wonder, especially watching Nat look for Sofiya. Nat doesn't even know who Sofiya is. I don't even know who I am, not really."

Careful, Olivia pressed her hands on Alex's knees, forcing them away from her body. As Alex unfurled, Olivia moved to take the space, her breath warm on the prosecutor's neck. Alex moved her head, just slightly, just enough to see Olivia's face, her lids lowered, eyes focused elsewhere. "I know who you are," Olivia whispered, her eyes rolling up to meet Alex's, and the effect was heart stopping. Olivia licked her lips.

"And, that doesn't matter where you came from," the detective continued, her breath soft, her lower lip just touching Alex's, hesitant. Alex moved her hands, resting one on the back of Olivia's neck, the other on her hip, an encouragement, a measure of consent.

White hot lightening cascaded in waves through Alex's body, and she cried out, fists clenching, face distorted with pain. Quickly, she felt Olivia pull her to her chest, her arms surrounding her. "What is it? Alex? What's wrong?"

When the pain subsided, Alex was left panting and shaking in Olivia's arms, her sobs audible as she tried to reason with what had just happened. There had been no stimulus, nothing to cause her the intense pain she had felt. Slowly, she uncurled her fingers from the fists she had made and latched on to Olivia's shirt, swallowing to force herself to contain her erratic breathing.

"Alex?" Olivia questioned again. "Talk to me, Alex. Let me know you're okay."

Shaking her head, Alex separated from Olivia's body, pushing her tears away. "I'm not," she said, her voice and her facial features tight as she fought to suppress the tears. Quickly, unable to meet Olivia's gaze, she packed her lap top away and grabbed her brief case, standing. "I'm so sorry. I'm not okay."

"Alex, please," Olivia called out, following Alex to the building's elevator. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have - I shouldn't have crossed that line." She reached out, her hand closing on Alex's arm, the fingers warm but loose, confused.

The clack of her heels in her ears stopped even though she wanted nothing more than to keep walking. Alex turned and looked over the detective. "It's not that," she said. "I promise, it's not that. I just – I can't – right now, I can't." She shook her head. "I'm sorry."

The elevator doors opened, and she turned to step inside the small box, retreating to the corner of the elevator, her knuckles white as she clung to the rail inside. It was everything she could do to stay standing and to not cry as she rode down to the first level, exiting the building without meeting anyone's questioning glance. After all, it was not a typical night to have an ADA on premise.

Without any destination in mind, Alex walked, the cold air of the night hitting her, reminding her that she had not brought a jacket that day with the intent to just walk. Yet, she could hardly convince herself to go home, so she decided that the subway was her next best bet. She had no idea how many stops she rode, only that she was fighting the urge to scream and throw a tantrum. The car, even though it was empty, felt like it was closing in on her until the suffocation became dizzying, and she escaped the train at the next stop, fleeing up the stairs.

By the time she had regained mental and physical control over her body, she realized she was so far from her home and everything that was familiar about her city that she could not think how to get home. Eyes wide, she stared around. She could smell the sea and diesel fuel that said she was near the ships, but she did not know which dock.

Reaching for her phone, she figured she could call a cab to her cross streets and leave it to the driver to know how to get back to the DA's office where she had parked her car early that morning. But, as she began to wander, looking for the nearest sign or landmark, she felt the eyes of a predator on her.

"It's just because it's late," she whispered to herself, shaking her head to clear it. Making her way down an alley, she headed toward the light of the street.

Sighing in relief as she found herself a street sign, Alex dialed a taxi company. "Hi," she said when the dispatcher answered. "I need a cab at South and John, as soon as possible." As she hung up the phone, she looked around her, safe in the knowledge that she would not be lost for long. She knew from her maps that she was close to Wall Street, but it was never a place she had been. The stocks and trading had never interested her, and at night, things looked so different than in the day.

Her head hurt, and while she had to reach out to stabilize herself, it was not nearly as painful as it had been in the squad room. Then, she had not been able to tell where the pain had started. It had felt like everywhere, like her very cells were being torn apart. This was just her head, the white light behind her eyes, a reminder of the excruciating pain she had felt only a few hours before.

As she looked around her, she had the strangest sensation that she had been there before. Things had looked different, then, larger, more frightening, less bright. Without thinking, she crossed the street, moved closer to the water, to the pier.

 _Pier Eleven_ the sign read, and she reached up to touch the painted letters. It was faded, but in her head it seemed brighter, fresher. There was a more modern sign denoting the pier, anyway, and the painted sign had been neglected. With the dock unsecured, Alex walked down the pier, closer to the water. The place was empty, void of signs of life except for the lull of the ocean. Alex walked to the edge, her hands closing over the railing separating her from the ocean, the smell both reassuring and haunting.

As she stayed, her headache grew more intense, something she chalked up to the smell of salt hanging in the air. She had always been that way, even when her parents had gotten a salt water fish tank. She got a bad headache every time she had helped her father to clean it.

"Hey, hey, what do we have here," a voice nearby growled, making her jump. "What's a pretty little thing like you doing out here so late at night?" He reached out with his hand, caressing her cheek, and she swatted his hand away. "Now, that's not nice, is it?"

He chuckled, and as she turned to flee, she felt arms close around her body from behind. "No. Stop," she yelped, struggling against the brutish arms that had closed around her. "Let me go."

The man laughed again, stepping close to her, his face in hers. She spat on him, kicking out with her legs. He just seemed to laugh harder, wiping her spit from his face before his fingers curled into a fist and he punched her.

Her entire world went dizzy, stars sparkling no matter where she looked. "Please," she murmured. "Just let me go."

"What will you trade for your freedom?" he asked.

Alex shook her head. "I don't have any money on me," she whimpered.

"What's in your bag?" he asked, his hand cupping her cheek. He ripped the bag from her shoulder, and she was vaguely aware of him pawing through it. "Nothing useful," he announced. "The lap top belongs to the city. She's a prosecutor. Check out her badge."

"Looks like a cop badge to me," the man said behind her, his voice gruff in her ears. "Bet we could get some use outta that. No one's gunna look that closely. All we gotta do is get close enough."

Alex watched the first man pocket her badge. "Not a bad idea." He pulled the badge from his pocket. "Hey, police. We need to talk to you." He smirked. "What do you think, girlie? Do I pass? Alright, I think you can let her go. We'll see if she can out run us."

The man holding her suddenly let go, shoving her forward. "Run, bitch."

She tried, her feet fumbling beneath her as she ran to the street end of the pier, her heart hammering in her throat. She felt as though she hardly managed to get ten feet before hands grabbed her again, and she went to the ground, her head bouncing off the concrete.

"On second thought, you're too pretty." A hand clenched her hair, lifting her head and slamming it to the ground. Her world exploded, her vision going black even though she could still hear. It sounded like a fight. She was vaguely aware of the body being lifted from her.

"Rebecca," another voice said from above, a man, his weight soft on her. "Oh, God. Keep breathing. I'm calling 9-1-1." Fingers moved the hair from her face. She could taste blood.

"I'm cold," she whispered. Her head lolled to the side, her body limp, her breathing shallow. His voice saying that name and the sound of sirens in the distance were the last sounds before she passed out.


	10. Chapter 10

Ch 10.

 _The fire raged deep inside her, an uncontrolled burn that grew with time. It left her mouth parched and her skin dry, all as if from the inside out. But, there were times, moments, where it came close to control, she could feel it, as if touched by an angel._

Alexandra

January 12, 2001

Blinking, Alex moaned. Her head throbbed and her cheek felt as though someone had tried to rearrange it. The faint beeping of the heart monitor and the smell of sterile let her know exactly where she was. Licking her lips, she tried to sit up, her vision blurring as she did so.

"You should probably lay back down," a voice from the door said. "How are you feeling?" Abbie stepped in from the hallway and pulled a chair up beside the bed.

Alex relaxed back into the pillow. "My face is killing me," she groaned, her voice surprisingly hoarse. "What happened?"

"Security called 9-1-1 this morning. You were lucky to be alive. I'm glad I'm still your emergency contact." Abbie held out an offering of water which Alex happily took, gulping the cool liquid down. "What do you remember?" Abbie asked, her hand covering Alex's. The two had been thick as thieves at the District Attorney's office, and Abbie had been like a mentor and older sister to the blonde.

"I was walking," she murmured. "Pier eleven, I think." She closed her eyes, conjuring up the image of the pier, the faded paint sign under her fingers as well as the tourist stop building, a company whose name she could not recall. "I – this man approached me. They grabbed my bag and shoved me down. I thought – God, Abs, I thought – he said I was too pretty to let go." The tears dripped down her cheeks as she sobbed. Her face contorted into a combination of fear and emotional distress, lips pulled into a tight, thin line, brow knitted as she began to cry in earnest. "I don't remember anything after that."

Abbie rubbed the backs of Alex's hands. "Aly, look at me, sweetie," she murmured. "Liv and Elliot are already out there, checking out the scene. They have been all morning. They will figure out who did this to you and find them. The more information you can give, though, the better. So, I need you to focus for me."

Alex nodded. "Did they – did they, um," she trailed off, looking at her hands.

"Rape you?" Abbie asked. Alex nodded, her lips pressed tight together. "No, it doesn't look like it. When you came in, your clothes were pretty torn up, suggesting sexual violence, but there was no evidence of penetration. They were more concerned about your head injury than anything, though. They found your work lap top a few feet away. It was pretty smashed. What else did you have in your brief case?"

Licking her lips, Alex thought about what she kept in there. "My wallet," she said. "I can cancel my cards, but my driver's license was in there, too. Um, my badge. I – I remember one of them saying they were going to take my badge and get close to people by pretending to be cops."

Abbie nodded. "Alright. I'll let officers know and we'll put out an information on people impersonating police officers."

"Do you have a description?" another voice asked, and Alex looked back to the doorway to find Olivia and Elliot standing there.

"No," Alex replied. "I'm so sorry." She chewed at her lower lip. "Elliot, can you find my doctor? I could really use some pain meds." She was panting, her brow furrowed as her head and body throbbed.

"Sure, Alex," the male detective said, nodding his head in understanding as he disappeared to find a medical professional.

"There was a man there," Alex said, looking at Olivia, her fingers clutching her side as she tried to control her breathing. The hysterics hurt more, so she had to fight to stay calm to ease the pain. "He fought off the men who attacked me."

Olivia nodded. "The security guard, yes. His quick thinking probably saved your life. I watched the video tape. He, uh, he applied pressure to your head wound, stopped the bleeding. The pier, Alex, it's a mess."

"I'm so sorry, Olivia," Alex said.

"This isn't your fault, Alex. The men who attacked you chose to do so." Olivia stepped closer, her fingers brushing Alex's shoulder. Alex lifted her hand, clutching Olivia's fingers with her own as she pressed her face closer to the detective. "We're working on identifying them and finding them, Alex," she continued as though entirely unaware of the change in the atmosphere between the two.

Abbie, though, looked between the detective and the prosecutor, her eyes settling on Alex, the question in her eyes clear. It was with that glance that Alex became aware of the fact that she was clinging to Olivia, and she let go of the detective's fingers with a small shake of her head. Olivia removed her hand from Alex's shoulder, apparently aware as well. Alex was aware of Olivia shoving her hands in her pockets. "I just wanted to check in on you," Olivia said. "I've got to head back out there, make sure evidence gets to the lab. This is personal."

"Actually," Abbie said, standing. "I have to use the restroom. Would you mind sitting with Lex for a few minutes?" Abbie looked to her friend. "I don't want her to be alone."

"Uh, sure," Olivia said, colour rising in her cheeks just enough that Alex could see the tint.

Abbie left the room, apparently in search of a bathroom.

Alex flushed a soft crimson. "She means well," Alex murmured.

"I know," Olivia said, sitting in Abbie's empty seat. "I didn't mean to embarrass you. I was so afraid." Olivia pressed her lips together, looking towards the door. "I've gotten so close to you so quickly. I'm scared of what it will mean to lose you. When they called for SVU and they told us you were the victim – I don't know, Alex. I had to step away for a moment. Your blood on the sidewalk is something I never want to experience again."

With a soft smile, Alex shook her head. "I make no promises, Liv, but I'll do my best. Thank you for coming for me."

"I'll try to protect you, Alex. You're my friend. Even when we argue, I'll protect you. You just have to call me, okay?" Olivia played with Alex's hair, twisting it nervously between her fingers.

Hissing in pain, Alex leaned forward, her eyes searching Olivia's. "Yea," she murmured. "Okay. But, only if you call me, too. You don't have to be the strong one, Olivia. It's okay to lean on other people." Alex cupped Olivia's cheek in her hand, her thumb tracing her lips. "I'm not going to just walk out on you, Liv. I promise. If I ever have to leave, I'll say good bye first, no matter what. Not even Death himself can stop me from telling you good bye."

"I'm going to hold you to that, Alexandra Cabot," Olivia whispered. "You ca -" Her words were cut off as Alex's lips covered her own in a soft kiss as though sealing a pact. Leaning closer, Olivia returned the kiss, her hand curled around the back of Alex's neck, pushing her back into the pillow. Alex moaned, wrapping an arm around Olivia's body, holding her as close as Olivia would allow, her weight propped up and off Alex's sore and bruised body.

When they parted, Olivia rested her forehead against Alex's. "Oh," she breathed.

Alex smiled, her eyes darting over Olivia's eyes as she tucked the brunette's hair behind her ears. "Oh," she mimicked, her skin dancing with the idea of promises unfulfilled.

After a few seconds, Olivia sat back down, though her hand remained firmly tucked in Alex's, the blonde's fingers tight around the detective's. The timing could not have been more perfect as Elliot walked in the door behind a man in a lab coat, presumably, Alex's doctor.

Olivia retracted her hand, and while Alex was sad to feel the warmth go, she understood. If anything got out, one of them would be transferring units, and neither of them wanted that, even if the kiss was a one time only ordeal. They both valued their positions far too much to ever admit to the chemistry that had just unfolded between them.

"Hi, Alex. I'm Jacob Stall, the physician on tonight. Glad to see you're back with us. Sorry I didn't stop by when you first woke up. Bus accident."

"Yikes," Alex murmured. "It's okay. I'm doing alright."

"Good. I'm going to ask you a few questions, get you back down for an MRI and see how the brain swelling is doing, and check your functionality. If you check out okay, you'll be on your way home by nightfall," the man said, a warm smile on his face.

Alex nodded. "Thank you," she murmured. Then, she looked to the detectives and back to the doctor. "How long was I out?"

"About six hours," the doctor said. "It's about eight thirty, and from what Detective Stabler says, you woke up about thirty minutes ago."

Again, Alex nodded. "That sounds right," she murmured. "Is there any chance I can get a snack?"

The doctor chuckled. "Sure, I'll have a nurse bring something to you. Think you can sit through a medical, first?" Alex nodded, and he went through the motions, checking her reflexes, memory, and speech. He listened to her breath, checked her blood pressure, and performed all of the other necessary medical tasks needed. She passed, mostly with complaints of pain but with still the ability to do the task. She stood up, touched her fingers to her nose, touched her toes, and, with Olivia standing on one side and the doctor standing on the other in case she fell, she walked around her room.

"Alright," the doctor finally said. "I'm satisfied. Let me get a hold of imaging and get you that last MRI. As long as the swelling has gone down noticeably, we'll get you out of here. Do you have someone to take you home?"

"Yes," Elliot and Olivia said, simultaneously.

Alex smiled, nodding. "Yea," she murmured, sitting back down on the bed and puling the blanket around her. "Thank you."

"Two enthusiastic drivers," the doctor quipped. "I'll be right back with some snacks. Do you want a sandwich? We've got a few peanut butter and jelly ones in the ER."

Shaking her head, Alex chewed her cheek. "Just crackers, thank you," she said, her voice soft. Biting her lip, she looked to both detectives. "Would you mind if we went to a hotel? I want to get a couple of outfits from home, but I don't think I can sleep there. Those men – they know where I live. They have my driver's license. I don't want them to try to finish what they started."

"Stay with me, then," Olivia said. "You'll have armed protection all night, and you can stay as long as you want. Save your money." The detective shrugged. "I mean, if you want."

"There's an empty room in our house, too," Elliot said. "You might want to take Olivia up, though. I have noisy kids. At least at her place, you can get some rest."

Alex smiled. "Thank you both," she murmured. "Liv, I would appreciate that very much."

"It's settled, then," Olivia said with a nod. "We'll swing by your place and get clothes, at least enough for a week. If you don't want to stay that long, that's fine, but at least it will cover you if you do. My apartment's not much, but it's safe."

"I like safe," Alex murmured.

Abbie returned to the room, four cups of hot chocolate in hand, and she passed them out to the people in the room. "Alright, detectives, I'll cover watch from here. Go out and get these guys."

"Yes, ma'am," Elliot quipped.

Olivia just smiled. "Call when you're ready to be picked up," she advised Alex.

When they were gone, the door closed behind them, Abbie turned to Alex, wide grin on her face. "Okay," she said. "Spill."


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Merry Christmas, friends._

Ch 11.

 _There came a point where she began to question her motives and her reasoning for holding on so long. She had to ask herself – did she really believe they would find her? Or, was she just reluctant to let go because she did not want to admit that she had lost so much of herself in the process?_

Nataliya

January 12, 2001

Nat picked at her nails, staring at the counter in front of her. There was not much she could do to help in the investigation – either against Mikey or to help find her sister – except to be available whenever the detectives had a question or wanted to run a scenario by her. And, with the help of the prosecutor on the case, Nat had managed to get a hold of a small cell phone with an international calling plan. It meant, too, that she could call her parents every day and talk to them. After two years of not knowing anything about them and not being able to tell them how she was progressing, that meant more to Nat than she could ever express.

In the mean time, with all of her spare time, aside from attending group and individual therapy at the shelter, Nat volunteered at the animal shelter a few blocks from the battered women's shelter. It struck her as ironic, and she found that she could often relate to the animals in cages, waiting for someone to pick them out and take better care of them than their last owners.

It was like what being with Mikey had been like. Even though they had been married, although Alex had managed to get their marriage license voided, Nat had been all too aware that if someone gave Mikey enough money, he would part with her. It was how she had come to be in Mikey's possession in the first place. He had traded drugs for her, something he had easy access to. And, then, when she was his, he had traded her for all manners of things and favours. Nat was not entirely oblivious. And, she had always kept her ears open for any signs or sounds relating to her sister. Nothing had ever come up, though.

She knew if she found Sofiya that all of the hurt and all of the terror would be worth it. But, lately, she had been wondering if she would feel the same way if they could not locate her. She could not longer answer that with certainty, and that had begun to frighten her. Her search for her missing twin had been the reason she had survived Mikey and the beatings and the violation of her body and soul. Even though she knew the detectives were putting their effort into the case, as the days passed without answer, she felt even more distant, as if she and her sister were getting further apart. The fact that they were working so hard in the search highlighted all the more, the failures.

"Nat, are you okay?" Stephen said, crouching down to look at her. "Look, you don't have to do this if you don't want to. I'll get someone else."

Nataliya pushed the tears from her cheeks. "Why do you put her to sleep, anyway?" she asked, having only recently realized that putting an animal to sleep meant that they were killing the animal.

"She's old, Nat. She's been here for nine months. We can't keep her here."

Placing her hands on the malinois' face, Nat stroked the dog's muzzle a few times, shaking her head. "But, the right person hasn't looked for her yet. They will come. Every dog has a home."

Stephen shook his head. "I'm sorry, Nat, we can't keep her."

"Let me take her. For walk. If I cannot find her home, I let you kill her. Please." Nataliya looked at the man, her eyes tear soaked, cheeks red.

He frowned. "Don't turn her loose, Nat. She could get hit by a car, and that's a long and painful death."

"No, no. Just walk. In park. She will be, be, uh, mascot." Nat bit her lower lip, quivering. "Please."

Stephen relented, handing Nataliya the leash. "Two hours, Nat."

She nodded, taking the lead and walking the dog out of the examination room. For the next two hours, they walked, and Nataliya played with the dog in the park. She laughed and had genuine fun with the animal until she realized that the time passage had been too short.

"You are good dog," she murmured, petting the dog's head, contemplating what she knew would happen if she returned the dog to the shelter. "You are not trash."

Having made up her mind, she headed to the only place she had connections within the city.

"Nataliya," Detective John Munch said, his voice surprised as she led the dog inside the squad room of the Special Victims Unit. "Nice dog."

"Thank you. Is Olivia here?"

"Yea, she's downstairs. She'll be right back. Why don't you grab a seat?" another detective said. This one was African American. She had not talked to him much throughout the case. Mostly, her contact had been with Elliot and Olivia and John, but apparently only because John spoke Russian.

The malinois whined at the end of the lead as Nat sat down to wait for the female detective. Olivia, she had realized, was resourceful. She could find anything. Surely, Nat thought, she could find a home for the sweet, old pooch she had bonded with. "What?" Nat asked as the dog continued to pull towards a room.

"You want some water?" John asked, setting a bowl before the dog and handing Nat a water bottle. "What's her name?"

"Kibbles," Nat said. "She's for adoption at shelter. Do you want dog?"

John shook his head. "No, 'fraid I can't fit one in my meager apartment. Try Elliot. He's got kids."

"I need to find her home today, or they kill her," Nat explained, her brow furrowed in frustration. "Why do they do this things?"

John frowned. "It's a sad world we live in, kid. I'm sorry. I hope you find her a home."

"Find who a home?" Olivia asked. "Oh, what a beauty." She squatted before the dog, allowing her to sniff her hand before petting her gently on the side. "What's her name?"

"Kibbles. She needs home," Nat said. "Shelter will treat her like trash if she does not find home. She is not trash. No one trash." The tears boiled up again, and she paused as Olivia handed her a tissue. "It not right."

The dog whined again, pulling at her leash until the fabric slipped from Nataliya's fingers. Kibbles dashed across the room, her face pressed up against the bottom of the door as she bowed. After a few seconds, she began to scratch at the door, whining and yelping softly. "Kibbles," Nat scolded. "I am trying to get you home. You are making look bad."

The door opened, and Nat stared at the woman before her. It was Alex, but with a swollen eye socket and cheek bone, cut lip, and bruises darting across her arms, the prosecutor looked so human it was startling. Kibbles immediately pressed her head against Alex's leg, and the tall woman dropped to a crouch, barely suppressing a hiss of pain.

"Who hurt you?" Nat asked, her voice soft, startled.

Licking her lips, Alex looked up. "I don't know," she answered. "Is this your dog?"

Nat shook her head, but remained mute, watching as Alex knelt down, Kibbles pushing her face against the other woman's, clearly infatuated. She watched, too, as a light shone in Alex's eyes, the woman smiling softly from her lips into her lavender grey eyes. "No," she finally whispered. "She's yours."

"Huh?" Alex said, looking up, her hands falling still much to the dog's displeasure. "Nat -"

"She needs home," Nat replied. "You need dog. I think this is what they call win-win."

"This is – I don't – I'm at work all the time. I wish, but I don't have – I don't have time," Alex stumbled.

Nat opened her mouth, but Olivia interrupted. "Actually, Alex, it might work out. She might help you feel safe again in your home. You can put her in doggie day care during the day while you're at work."

The Ukrainian woman nodded emphatically. "Alex, she deserves to be loved. She is old, but she is not trash. The shelter will throw her away if she does not find home today. No one, not even animal, deserves be throw away. She is good girl. We play all day. She is cuddles. You will like her. She already pick you."

Licking her lips, Alex looked down at the dog before her, as if weighing her options. After a few seconds, she nodded. "Okay, Kibbles," she said, scratching the dog behind her ears. "I guess since you picked me."

Nataliya beamed as she watched Alex lean forward, hugging the dog, her face buried into the animal's fur. Kibbles whined, and Nat would have sworn that it sounded infinitely happy, as if she knew she had a human now and everything would be alright.

When Alex sat back, Nataliya saw something she never would have expected from the woman who had always been so strong and fierce. Alex pushed away tears. Nat pressed her lips together, frowning as she watched the strong woman flinch when she touched her own cheek. "The person who hurt you, man?"

Alex nodded, her eyes darting to Nataliya before she looked down, clearly composing herself.

"They will find him. He will not be allowed to walk away for ever." She saw a small smile from Alex. "Kibbles will keep you safe. I will tell the shelter she has home."

"Yes, please," Alex murmured, standing as she twisted the leash around her hand. "Let me come with you. I'll need to pay her adoption fee." Kibbles walked at her heel, clearly having been trained before, making the leash relatively unnecessary. Alex still held on, though, as though afraid of what letting go would mean. Nataliya watched her as she walked, the unwavering confidence from the last time the two had met somehow broken down.

"Alex," Nataliya said, stopping just outside the precinct. The attorney stopped, looking at Nataliya. Licking her lips, Nat switched to her more comfortable Russian. _"If you cannot overcome, there is little hope for the rest of us."_

"I will," Alex said, her words still English. "I will be okay, Nat. And, you were right. They will catch them. Just like they caught Mikey. And, they'll find the men who bought your sister. And, we'll find your sister, even if it takes me the rest of my career, Nat. We will find her."

Carefully, Nataliya reached over to hug Alex. It was light and awkward, the dark haired woman cautious about any injuries Alex might have. Alex's conviction reverberated in not just her words but her body. Nataliya could feel it radiating from her, and it gave her the confidence she needed. Her confidence might have been faltering, but her drive was another story all together.

"Watch the city, Nataliya," Alex said with a warm smile. "Watch for her."

Nataliya nodded. "I will watch for bad men, too," she said.


	12. Chapter 12

Ch 12.

 _Dreams were meant to be an escape. In those days, though, her nightmares held her, far into her waking hours._

Alexandra

January 12, 2001

She woke up screaming, her heart in her throat as she stared around her, the area unfamiliar. A whine from beside her caught her attention, a warm tongue caressing her face and neck. Shuddering, Alex wrapped her arms around the furry monster that had sprawled out on the bed with her.

"Kibbles," she whispered, burying her face into the dog's neck. "Come here." The dog crawled on her lap, whining. Alex just held on, working on orientating herself. The nightmare had been so real, as though she had been living it all over again. She had given her statement to Elliot at the precinct earlier that day, explaining that she had needed emotional space and had gotten lost because she had not been paying attention. Everything after that was a whirlwind of physical and emotional attacks.

Olivia had dropped her, and her new pal, off at her apartment, insisting that Alex get some real sleep after the night in the hospital, tossing and turning in the uncomfortable bed. Olivia had just gotten Alex settled and half asleep before she had to leave again, returning to the precinct on a call from the captain.

"Hey, Lexie," Olivia said, her hand warm on Alex's back. "Are you doing okay?"

"Yea," Alex whispered. "I just had a nightmare."

"About the attack?" Olivia asked.

Alex shook her head. "I don't know," she said. "It was about the pier. I was so dizzy, my head hurt so badly. Everything was just kind of a blur. And, this boy was holding me, shaking me. He kept telling me to keep breathing." Olivia slid onto the bed beside Alex, wrapping an arm around her. Alex clung to Olivia's hand with one hand, her other securely on Kibbles' collar. "He kept saying 'Rebecca, hang on.' I have no idea – he kept calling me Rebecca."

Olivia's brow furrowed. "Didn't you say the security guard called you Rebecca?" she asked.

"Yea," Alex said, "but, this – I don't know. It was a boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen in my dream." She shook her head before cringing, releasing both the dog and the detective as she pressed her hands to her head. "Ow."

"Let me get you another pain pill," Olivia said. "Hang on." Olivia gently brushed the hair from Alex's face, her lips barely grazing the non-injured skin. "Lay back down, Alex."

The prosecutor nodded, chewing at her lower lip as she cuddled back down, Kibbles stretched out before her, head tucked against Alex's chest. Nat had been right – though old, the dog was not trash. In the few hours since she had adopted her, Alex had found a comforting presence in the dog, and she could not help but to wonder.

"I guess broken souls attract, huh?" Alex murmured, petting the dog between the ears. "I can't help but wonder why you came to that door. Did you really know?"

As if in answer, the malinois whined, yawning as she snuggled closer to her human.

"I think that's a _yes_ ," Olivia laughed. "You can tell she makes you feel safe."

"So do you," Alex murmured, sitting up enough to take the pill from Olivia's hand and down the water she had been offered. "Can you stay?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you have to go back to the office?" Olivia shook her head. "Then, stay with me. At least, at least until I fall asleep. Please?"

Olivia licked her lips before she chewed at her cheek. Alex could see her thinking, but in that moment, she did not want thought. "This – this, attraction," she said, "it can't continue. We could both lose our jobs."

"I know," Alex whispered. "Tonight, lay with me as my friend, Liv. I just want to feel safe."

The detective nodded, crawling into the bed with the other woman, their bodies flush against each other. Cautiously, Olivia wrapped her arms around Alex, settling them in places she knew the prosecutor to be uninjured. Fortunately, the pill was quick to work its magic, and between that and the warmth of being surrounded, Alex quickly began to drift to sleep. Even the last thing she thought she felt, she could not be certain that it had not been the dream of Olivia's lips pressing a soft kiss into the back of her neck.

The world was dark when Alex next woke, though it was not from a nightmare. Instead, the bed before her was cold and a warm tongue was lapping at her hand. As Alex opened her eyes, the dog raced to the closed bedroom door before turning and racing back to Alex. "Oh," Alex murmured, standing.

A moan and a soft thud behind her told her that Olivia had not only stayed until Alex had fallen asleep, but she had stayed until she had fallen asleep, the two curled together, warm and safe. Alex could not help but smile as she watched the sleeping detective for a few seconds before Kibbles insisted, once more on going out.

"Alright, alright," Alex purred. "I'm coming."

She walked Kibbles to a small patch of grass near the apartment complex, and, as the dog did her business, she looked around herself. There was that tense feeling, the feeling of becoming prey yet again. But, then, there was a sense of familiarity. This was not her part of the city, but it was close. And, as she looked up at the building she had just come from, she thought that between the detective and the dog, she would always be okay. She just wished that Olivia had not been right. They could not allow the attraction to kindle and flame, even if both women clearly wanted to.

Olivia was right about the risk to their jobs. Technically, Alex was in a supervisory position with the unit. She had been moved to the precinct specifically to evaluate and consider the detectives' abilities to do their jobs both individually and as a unit. In the words of Elizabeth Donnelly, she was there to "rein them in." Crossing the professional line into a romantic one would mar her ability to remain a neutral party in the unit. Even the closeness they experienced for Olivia to offer her apartment as a safe haven following the attack blurred those lines.

With a sigh, Alex picked up Kibbles' mess, tossing the used baggie into the trash bin nearby. That was the beauty of the city – there were trash cans everywhere to encourage dog owners to actually pick up after their animals. Alex had not noticed before, but she had begun to see the little stands as she had walked Kibbles home from the shelter. She supposed it was a pet owner thing, something she had never been before. Even as a child, her family had never owned animals. Her parents worked a considerable amount, and Alex had never asked.

The dog naturally heeled as they walked back down the street to the apartment building and on the stairway up. Too, she sat outside the door while Alex fumbled with the key that Olivia had given her, waiting patiently to be returned home. In the kitchen, Alex refilled the food bowl and the water bowl before padding back to the bedroom, hanging her jacket on the open door of the closet. As she approached the bed, she assumed Olivia was sleeping, so was taken off guard when the comforter lifted as if to grant her access.

As Alex climbed back into the bed, the comforter closed around her, a warm arm resting on her stomach. "You're cold," Olivia whispered.

"Mm," Alex murmured. "You're very warm." She twisted on the bed, managing to suppress the painful gasp that wanted to bubble out. She hated taking medication of any kind, and she wanted to be aware and in control over her faculties enough for the remainder of the weekend. She slowly blinked her eyes, focusing on the soft feel of the cotton sheets and the warmth of Olivia's arm as it rested against her skin.

The detective moved, her fingers tracing Alex's body line up to her face. "I won't tell," she whispered as she stroked Alex's cheek. "We're already here." Her fingers were gentle as she pushed Alex's hair away from her face, brushing it over the pillow.

Alex swallowed. "It can't change anything in the office," she whispered.

"I know," Olivia replied. "It won't. It can't. We owe it to the survivors to be at our best."

"This weekend, then," Alex murmured. "Because, anything long term will change us. We'll stop seeing each other as professionals, and we can't – we can't do that."

Olivia pressed her lips against Alex's mouth, effectively silencing her. "Don't worry about the what ifs, Alex," she murmured. "This weekend, we'll forget about cases and forget about detectives and lawyers. Our jobs won't define us for two days, alright? Just, two days, then we go back to being workaholics with no social lives. Okay?"

Whimpering, Alex nodded, her hands finding Olivia's night shirt, fingers closing around the fabric, pulling the woman closer to her, the kiss between them intense, passionate, and over all too quickly before Alex's hand moved, pushing Olivia onto her back. The brunette gasped, her eyes aglow, a reflection of the street lamps just below the apartment window. They danced over Alex's face as the blonde watched her from above, Olivia's hands on Alex's hips as if holding her in place.

Biting her lower lip, Alex pushed Olivia's shirt up her body, exposing her stomach, fingers traveling over Olivia's smooth, olive skin. Alex had thought, from the moment that she had met the detective, that she had a fitting name for her physical features. As she learned more about the woman's personality, she found that the name was even more fitting.

"You're so warm," Alex whispered. Leaning down, Alex kissed Olivia's mouth, her attention moving down Olivia's jaw and neck. As the detective moaned, Alex flicked her tongue over Olivia's ear lobe, nibbling lightly.

Groaning, Olivia arched her back, her nails dragging up Alex's spine. "I wanna feel you, Alex," she hissed, "all of you."

Alex chuckled, her voice deep and throaty with arousal. "All in due time, Liv," she murmured, biting down on the front of Olivia's neck, sucking gently.

"Hickies," Olivia hissed. "God, Alex, that feels – fuck, but don't, don't mark me."

Alex hummed, moving her mouth lower until the skin she was latched on to was between Olivia's collar bone and her breast, safely in the realm of being covered with a simple tee shirt. She bit, nibbled, sucked, and licked until she had dotted Olivia's breasts and stomach with various bruises, each one given with intent, the detective whimpering under her touch. Their clothes and most of the bed covers had been pushed off of the bed as some point as Alex had dotted on Olivia's body. Careful and deliberate, Alex pushed Olivia's legs apart, settling herself between them, her attention focused on the woman's thighs, dropping closer to her sex only to move away.

"GoddammitAlex," Olivia growled, her fingers clutching Alex's hair and tugging just enough to get her point across.

Alex chuckled, her breath hot between Olivia's thighs. "You want something, detective?" she murmured, her lips just touching sensitive skin. "I think you should ask for it." As she talked, she drew her tongue between the soft folds of the woman's sex before peppering kisses along her thighs.

"You're a fucking tease," Olivia murmured, adjusting herself so that the two were able to meet eyes, even as Alex continued to nibble at her thighs. "Alright, counselor, we'll play your way." She leaned forward, grasping Alex's face in her hand and pulling her up until Alex was on her hands and knees before Olivia as she pressed her mouth against Alex's, moaning softly.

As Olivia pulled away, Alex felt electricity shoot through her own body at the look in Olivia's eyes. "Fuck me, Alex," Olivia demanded, startling Alex with her dominance. "I want you to fuck me." Her eyes went dark. "Now."

With a nod, Alex rubbed her fingers over Olivia's clitoris before pushing them inside her sex. "God, yes," Olivia groaned, her head tipping back as she dropped back to her elbows. Alex dropped down, her mouth closing over Olivia's clit.


	13. Chapter 13

Ch 13.

 _Her work had become an obsession long before she had made senior detective. In fact, her unhealthy obsession had given her the promotion. But, it had come at a cost, a sacrifice in every other aspect of her life._

Helen

February 1, 2001

It took several minutes for her to process the significance of the links before her. In reality, they were not significant. At only a forty percent match, Helen suspected that every Ukrainian national with a driver's license or ID card issued by the state of New York had just popped up in the forty seven page report that her missing persons' search had returned. Indeed, many of them were not even female, but Helen did not want to rule out a sex change in the efforts she put in, however unlikely it was.

The initial report had been run at an eighty percent or greater match, and had brought back a whopping ten results. As she had dropped the match percentage lower and lower, comparing driver's license and ID card images with the composite given to her by the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children, she had gotten more and more potential matches, many of whom were weeded out after careful consideration and comparison. For many, it was because their point of origin into the United States, were they foreign born, was well documented. Once the prosecutor had helped open the door to INTERPOL and INS with whatever magic touch she had, Helen had been able to confirm with some of the others that the individual was somehow accounted for either in the United States prior to the age of five or accounted for on foreign soil well beyond that age. Those that were not had been scrutinized over the holidays and ruled out.

Many of the matches were clearly not the appropriate person, and she had been quick to rule them out, the pages slowly dwindling each day. Realistically, Helen was aware that the young woman whom she sought had probably never gotten a driver's license. In all honesty, she had probably never made it to adulthood, but it was worth looking in to if only to rule out anyone. She could only imagine what it had to be like to live for over twenty years not knowing if a family member was alive or dead and feeling that pain each and every day.

Yet, in that moment, she had to pause and consider the image on the screen before her as her coworker looked over her shoulder. "What do you think?" she asked.

"You know this case best, Helen," Adam answered, "but, I would say there's at least a familial resemblance. Even in Eastern Europe, that jaw line is not typical, yet it's the same. Does the state have her DNA on file? I'm sure the ADA on the criminal case can help secure a judicial consent to use that data and compare it to this if that's what you're worried about."

Helen pressed her lips together, chewing the inside of her cheek. "Somehow, I don't think I would need to get a judge's order for this one," she said with a soft sigh.

"You know her?" Adam asked, stepping back.

Helen nodded. "Yea," she murmured.

"Well, Nat gave her DNA, didn't she? Do a familial match. They might not be sisters, but if they're cousins or something, maybe she can help Nat out, you know?"

"I know," Helen murmured. "Actually, I should call Nat. Continue looking through the photos for me?"

"Yea, okay." She felt Adam's eyes on her as she left for her office. He seemed suspicious, and she supposed he had the right to be. Forty percent match was not significant, Helen reminded herself. It was less than fifty percent and pretty much included every Ukrainian with a driver's license.

The foreign woman picked up on the third ring. "Hello?"

"Nat, it's Detective Owens at NYPD. How are you?"

"I am good. How are you?"

"Doing well," Helen answered, still toying with her questions and how she was going to phrase it so the woman understood. Unlike one of the detectives and the prosecutor handling the criminal matter, Helen did not speak any other language. "Do you have a minute?"

"Oh, yes," Nataliya replied, seeming to pay closer attention, even over the phone.

"Your sister," Helen started, stopping and pausing. "You two are twins. Are you identical?"

"Ident - I dent," Nataliya repeated. "What does it mean?"

"The same," Helen said. "Uh, when you were a child, if you looked at your sister, was it the same as looking in a mirror?"

Nataliya laughed. "No," she said. "Sofiya looked different, but only in small ways. Mama said you could not tell us apart in a photograph, but she knew us when she looked at our faces."

Helen swallowed, nodding. "Okay, Nat. Thank you. That actually is really helpful. Do you have questions for me? Or, can I get you anything?"

"No, thank you. I have meeting with Olivia later for court," the woman answered.

"Okay. Good luck, Nat. I'll keep you updated."

"Thank you."

Helen hung up, dialing a number that had become familiar to her as she had requested more and more composites over the course of her career. "Carrie, it's Helen Owens, NYPD," she identified when the woman picked up.

"Detective, do you have another composite for me?" the chipper voice of the woman on the other end of the line asked. How she was always so happy, Helen could not be certain. She created images of people who, more often than not, had died. Carrie had told her once it was because she was bringing them back to life, often to ensure justice was done and help a family gain closure. Helen wished it were that simple.

"Sort of," Helen said. "Do you still have the email from the Andreiko case I sent you?"

"Of course," Carrie replied. "Did you find her?" There was a note of excitement in her voice that made Helen wonder how often detectives in other precincts or even other departments would call her and tell her that a person had been located because of her specialty.

Helen felt guilty about not calling as often as she should have. There were a handful of cases, particularly the child pornography cases, where Helen had been able to identify a child based on a composite of the same child aged. "I hate to ask, but I need another composite," she said, chewing at her lower lip.

"Sure, what age?" the woman asked, and Helen swore she could hear the click of a pen in the background, Carrie possibly preparing to take notes.

Helen sighed. "Seven, nine, and twenty eight," she replied, cringing.

"I emailed -"

"I know," Helen interrupted, "And, they are fabulous works based on the information I had been able to get to you before, but, uh -" She sighed, genuinely feeling guilty about the entire situation. It both made Carrie's job more complex and set the case back .

"The sister - when the detectives from the other case told me they were twins, I messed up. I assumed they were identical," Helen said, cringing as she said it. It was a rookie mistake, something she should have confirmed and something she would kick herself about for the next several cases. She knew she would be much more cautious in the future, but that did not help cover the passage of time, the almost three months they had lost in the case because of an error in adjective.

She heard Carrie chuckle through the line. "They aren't. Give me a couple of weeks, and I'll get that adjusted," she said, sounding, at least, in good spirits about it. "I'll email them to you as a sibling relation, same parents."

"You are my hero, Carrie. I am so, so sorry. What do I owe you?" Helen asked.

Carrie laughed. "How about you go home to your husband tonight, and we'll call it even?" she teased, but there was a serious note in her voice, too. After five years corresponding with each other over cases, they had chatted about personal things as well, and the topic of Helen's failing marriage had come up. It was strained because they were both police officers, but it was also strained because Helen was home even less than he was, and when she was home, the nightmares ate at her soul.

"I think I can do that," Helen answered, breathing a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Carrie. Let me know if you need anything else from me." Hanging up, Helen sighed.

"Hey, Adam," she said, walking back into the small computer room tucked in the back of the Missing Persons Bureau. "We can pause on that. Carrie's going to re-examine the composites."

"Why, what happened?" Adam asked, his brow pinched. The image that had startled Helen was still on the screen. "Who is she?"

Helen shook her head. "Probably nothing," she replied. "Nat and Sofi aren't identical twins. Carrie's doing the composite like a non-twin sibling. I'll have to start all over from square one. Thanks for all your help though."

Adam nodded. "Sure, any time. Wanna grab lunch and go over the Cormin case? I've got a couple of possible leads, but I have to be tender around them. You're the expert. I wanted you to weigh in with your thoughts on my ideas."

"Absolutely," Helen said, aware that she was married to her job. But, there was so much at stake, so much that she simply could not give up. No child, she figured, deserved to be left out in the cold.

Her gaze was attracted to the image of the driver's license as she chewed at her lip. Then again, some children were not left out in the cold, and she wondered at the wisdom of bursting someone's bubble, telling them they were someone they did not believe themselves to be. How worth it would it be to topple one person's world to give closure to another? She did not know.

She glanced back to Adam, finding it ironic that she would be giving him advice when she was in desperate need of it herself. Mentally, she had to remind herself that it was probably nothing. Everyone native to or first generation from the same region was likely to pop up in a search when the constraints were only a forty percent match. Still, something in her gut made her lean over and save the image into her personal files.


	14. Chapter 14

Ch 14.

 _Life went on as normal. It had to. No matter how much she wanted everything to change; no matter how much everything had changed._

Olivia

February 13, 2001

"Detective, can you explain what happened after you and Detective Stabler identified yourselves as NYPD?" Alex asked, her form regal as she stood in her element. It had always been her element, that much was painfully clear. There was almost an electrical aura around her as she deliberately paced the court room, pen propped to her mouth, not in a dainty fashion, but in a powerful fashion.

Olivia leaned back with a half shrug as if to convey that she had expected it, that everyone should expect it of the guilty. "He ran," she said with a soft sigh. Just because certain words could not be stated in court did not mean that concepts could not otherwise be conveyed. She was indicating that, in her experience, only guilty people ran. It was not necessarily the truth in every case, but she hoped the jury would believe that it was. If nothing else, it would help them net that particular case.

"We chased him. I caught up to him first; Detective Stabler went down a second alley to try and cut him off at the turn. I was able to grab the back of the suspect's shirt, but he turned, taking a swing at me. At that time, Detective Stabler was able to more securely restrain him," Olivia explained, her voice smooth as though it happened all of the time.

Alex nodded, tapping the pen to her lower lip. Olivia adjusted herself in her chair. It had been a month since the two had shared a bed. She had hoped their weekend escapade would have settled the desire inside of her, but it had not. If nothing else, the knot in her stomach held even tighter now that she had a taste. Alexandra Cabot was restrained but passionate and powerful in the court room. When the professional element was removed and she was dropped into the middle of a bedroom, she became an intense dose of carnal, unhindered sex who also happened to be quite talented in the kitchen.

Olivia had joked that Alex had ruined her for any other partner. And, while Alex had chuckled about it, Olivia was not actually certain that she had been joking.

And, that had been it. Monday morning, they had both gone into the office after dropping Kibbles at a near by dog daycare, and when they had met again later in the afternoon, the exchange had been nothing shy of professional. Not that Olivia had expected anything different. She still did not. There was the customary Friday night out with the rest of the squad, something that Alex was invited to regardless. But, outside of that interaction, there had been no contact outside of the office, no mention of their nights – and days – together.

Despite their original agreement, it was killing the detective to not address it. The same did not seem to be true for the attorney, and Olivia had found herself tense over the past month, getting into more arguments with her, unsure if she should feel used.

"Cabot," Olivia yelled, racing across the court house steps that evening, once trial had let out. Alex had stayed behind to pack up her things, and Olivia had waited, too, outside of the courtroom, her heart in her throat. The attorney paused, looking over her shoulder before her body relaxed and she waited for the detective to catch up.

"What can I do for you, Detective?" Alex asked, her eyes barely grazing over Olivia. It felt like utter rejection.

Olivia sighed. "Alex," she said, her tone soft, almost timid. She could hear it, and it made her cringe internally. "We need to talk, personally."

Alex shook her head. "No, Olivia, we don't," she said, her tone firm as she frowned. "We agreed that there couldn't be anything between us. The job has to be the only thing between us."

"I need more closure than that, Alex," Olivia said, the hurt entering her voice unintentionally. She hated herself for it, but it seemed to garnish the attorney's attention because she stopped, her fingers playing with the strap of her attache. Olivia swallowed, licking her lips as she stepped forward. "At least tell me that it was just another fuck, that you were feeling needy and hurt and I fulfilled some sort of one night stand role or, or something."

"This is really not something we should be discussing," Alex said, her voice a little less firm that time, though still capable of driving the typical suitor away.

Olivia chose to stand her ground, one hand on her hip. "Why the fuck not, Alexandra?" Olivia asked. "Just fucking let me know what I am to you. I get the job bit. Believe me, I want to fucking do my job, but I can't. I can't get you out of my head, so just fucking tell me I'm worthless or something." Her voice elevated as she spoke, not quite yelling, but they were definitely beyond simply talking at that point.

And, Alex seemed to rise to the challenge. "Because I fucking can't," she snapped. "You're not worthless. You're there, in my head. Don't you get it?" Alex shook her head, her voice softening. "That weekend was nothing shy of primal satisfaction. It was what it was meant to be – a release of pent up sexual tension. But, it's also been the only time I've ever fucked someone and not felt dirty afterwards. It's the first time I didn't immediately get up and shower. I didn't question my morals or my ethics. It felt right."

Alex dropped her eyes to the ground, her body slack as though exhausted. "It felt right, Liv," she whispered, "and that's what scares me most of all."

Shaking her head, Alex turned and walked away, leaving Olivia visibly stunned and shaken. Despite wanting to, the detective could not quite bring herself to follow Alex down the street. She wanted to catch up to her, to pull her close and kiss her, to hold her, to protect her, but she understood what Alex was saying on a less superficial level. She knew, in that moment, if she went after the attorney, there would be no turning back. Both women would be positioned to play out their personal lives to whatever end that might bring. Alex was like a dose of heroin. There had been beauty in the high, but Olivia understood that the fall would be dangerous and would likely end up badly for both of them.

So, she stayed, rooted to her spot until Alex disappeared around a corner. And, then, she headed back to the precinct to pick up her case load where she left off. There would be no use in going home that night.

Startling herself awake, Olivia rolled over on the twin bed shoved in the corner of the detectives' sleeping quarters. Affectionately dubbed 'the Crib,' detectives who stayed late or worked triple shifts often napped there, much the same as an infant – for one to two hours at a time. Glancing at her watch, Olivia groaned. She had not even gotten that much time.

She shook her head, trying to clear her mind of her dream, but she could not quite shake it. She had been eleven or twelve in her dream, running around the park after school, kicking a soccer ball. She had thought she was alone, but this little girl came out of nowhere, her face smeared with soot, coughing. "Help me," the other child had declared. "I'm fading." Then, as if the words triggered something, the child had flickered in and out of reality, losing her technicolor for a moment before flickering back, shuddering. "You're losing me, Olivia."

It had been that line that had startled her into the realm of consciousness. She could have sworn it was a familiar child, and she swung her legs out of bed, padding back down to the precinct a half level below. "Where did I put that image?" she murmured, pulling open her desk drawer and pawing through it. "Ah, there." She pulled out a head shot of a little girl in a newspaper clipping.

Slowly, Olivia sank into her desk chair, the clipping tight in her fingers. As part of the academy when she had been just a rookie, they had studied the case. It had been an exercise on talking to children. An unidentified female had been dropped off, according the the instructor, at a local hospital. The girl refused to give her name or address. The idea was to help the cadets think about creating a rapport with children. While Olivia had wanted to go into Special Victims for the sexual abuse aspect, it had been that training exercise that had expanded her considerations into domestic violence and child abuse.

"You're here early," Don murmured behind her. Olivia jumped and looked over, smiling sheepishly. "What's that?"

Olivia shook her head. "Just a newspaper clipping from a case about twenty years back," she said. "We studied it in academy."

Don narrowed his eyes as he stepped closer. "You studied that case? You're sure?" he asked, offering a skeptical look.

The junior detective nodded. "Yea, um, she refused to talk with law enforcement, probably afraid of her dad or something. It was a rapport building exercise. I kept it to remind myself of the value of making children feel safe."

The captain of the unit nodded, a slight frown on his face. "Then, you didn't study that case, Liv," he said. "Because, if you had studied the case, you would know who she was."

Olivia's brow furrowed. "Did you – did you work this case?"

The man nodded again. "Yes. I was still a beat cop back then, before I got my shield. I was driving over by Wall Street when I got the call. She was stumbling down pier eleven covered in vomit with dried blood in her hair. I called for a bus and got her bundled in the back of my cruiser. After they took her, I didn't know what became of her. She kept calling me Papa. My heart broke for that little kid."

"Have you ever thought about following up?" Olivia asked.

"I've certainly had the opportunity," he said, "but I don't think she remembers me. Anyway, she's pretty successful now. And, to be truthful, quite the successful pain in my rear." Olivia's brow furrowed. Don laughed, shaking his head. "That's Alexandra Cabot."

Olivia's mouth dropped open as she stared at the girl in the picture. "That's – wait – the ADA?" she stammered.

"The same," Don said. "I can't believe the crap they're spinning at the academy now."

Olivia fell silent, staring at the image. There was the familiar look of haunted terror in the girl's eyes. Even in the newspaper photo, Olivia could see the cracked lips. The child was too thin, a bruise still healing around her right eye socket. "Someone beat the crap out of her," she breathed.

"More than once, too," Cragen affirmed. "She wouldn't say who, though, not while she was with me." He shook his head. "I don't know what it'll do, but I don't think it was her father."

Olivia traced the outline of the child's face. "The men who beat her at the pier," she said, her head snapping up. "She was at pier eleven. She said the security guard, the one who saved her, called her Rebecca."

Don's brow furrowed. "I don't know. I don't know why someone would call her Rebecca."

"Because she didn't remember her name," Olivia said. "She told me that she picked her name when she was adopted because she didn't remember her name. The night you found her, she was diagnosed with severe amnesia. She says everything before waking up at the hospital was a blur."

With a shrug, Don sighed. "Sounds to me like you might need to go talk to that security guard. But, uh, Liv -"

"Yea?" Olivia asked, already grabbing her jacket.

"Don't tell Alex that you're digging into her past."

"Got it," Olivia said, taking off to the pier in hopes that she would be able to catch the guard before his shift ended.


	15. Chapter 15

Ch 15.

 _The sunrise over the sea calmed her as a child, still calmed her as an adult. But, some days, even that could not calm her when she was forced to look at the world through the eyes of another._

Olivia

February 14, 2001

"Ty," Olivia called, waving her hand as the man walked along his patrol down the pier. "It's Detective Benson. Have a moment?"

"Yea, sure," he said, walking to her as she walked to him. "Uh, mind if we do the patrols at the same time? The boss doesn't like me standing around."

Olivia nodded. "Yea, you got it." She fell into step with him, inhaling the sea. It was dirty, nothing like going further south, beyond the reach of the city. But, it was still the sea. "You remember the woman who got attacked here a month ago?"

"Yea, sure. Did you catch the bastards? Need me to ID anyone?" he asked, a frustrated growl entering his tone.

"Not yet," she said with a sigh. "But, uh, I think there's something you can help me with. She said that when you pushed the man off her, you called her Rebecca. Do you remember that?"

Ty nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yea. I thought she was someone I knew. She's not. My bad. I hope I didn't freak her out." His brow furrowed as if concerned.

Olivia shook her head. "No," she said. "No, I don't think it phased her. Um, but, this Rebecca, how did you know her?"

"We were neighbours, uh, not too far from here, maybe ten minutes walkin'. She was livin' with her pops and her brother. My gramps was all I had, you know. He, uh, he didn't hear too well, so Becca used to sneak into my window when her pops got really bad off, you know?"

Olivia shook her head. "No. You mean, drunk?"

"Yea, drunk. Becca said he had this white powder, too. I think meth. He said he used to make her clean the house. He threw a lot of parties, a lot of guys came over. Becca always said they made a big mess."

Olivia nodded. "Ty, this is important, okay?" She waited for him to nod before continuing. "Did Becca speak English?"

"Not well," he admitted. "We studied whenever she came over. I gave her my old kid books to read she was probably only five or six. Damn, she loved books. Wait – how'd you know she didn't speak English?"

"How old were you, Ty?" Olivia asked.

"Uh, ten when I met her," he said, nodding. "I remember because my gramps had thrown a birthday party for me. She, uh, she knocked on my window because she was hungry. I snuck her a left over hot dog and some cake. Her pops was a piece of work. She was always so skinny, always asking for food."

Fighting the nausea rising in her stomach, Olivia fingered the clipping in her pocket. She could not help but understand why Alex could not remember. She suspected a great deal had to do with the amnesia, but she wondered if some of the lack of memory had to deal with the extreme trauma. "Ty," she said, holding the clipping out to him. "Is this her?"

Gingerly, the security guard unfolded the paper. Olivia had deliberately folded it because she wanted an organic response to the image contained within. His eyes widened as he stared at the picture. In the dim light of morning, she could see the puddle of tears forming in his eyes as he nodded. "Yea, that's her. How – where?"

He pushed his tears away, still hanging on to the clipping, looking at it again. "That's Becca. God, that picture has to be from when she vanished. The bruise on her eyes – I remember it like yesterday. She came tearing into my room through the window, bleeding from her eye. Her eye. He fucking beat the shit out of her. She was a mess, could barely walk, blood all over her face, legs, arms." He wiped his eyes again, pushing the tears from his cheeks.

Olivia felt her heart constrict. Breathing became difficult, but she forced herself through it. "What happened?" she asked.

Ty shook his head. "I wish I knew, you know? I wish I had called the cops that day. Maybe – maybe she'd be alright, you know? But, she didn't – she didn't know the words to tell me what happened, and I didn't – I didn't really, either. I, uh, I took her to the bathtub and helped her get the blood off her. She cried the entire time. Then, she went back home. I shouldn't have let her go. I shoulda made her stay."

"What happened the next time you saw her?" Olivia asked.

"I didn't," the guard replied, his face crest fallen. "I always figured her old man killed her, dumped her body in the ocean."

Olivia nodded, looking out down the pier. "Is that why you work here?"

"Sorta," he said. "Sometimes, she'd bolt outta the house and head down the street. Her pops would follow her sometimes, screaming and drunk. It was that kinda neighbourhood back then, you know? I guess no one questioned it. But, I followed her one day, and I found her here." He pointed to a generic area in the distance. "There usedta be a little shack, and she'd hide behind the wall. After a while, I started going there when I heard yellin' from their place, I would head towards the pier and bring a little blanket, some bandages, and a few cracker sandwiches, whatever I could get without Gramps noticing."

Silent, Olivia processed the information. It was this pier where Ty had cared for her like an older brother, doing whatever was in his twelve year old power to do. The place was associated with safety, or whatever safety tiny Alexandra could manage. Olivia could not help but wonder if that was what Alex had been looking for that night when she had gone to the pier. "Ty, she, um, she survived," Olivia said, her eyes roving back to the security guard, watching him. "A police officer found her wandering the pier that night."

The man broke out into a grin, his tears even more powerful. "Really? She made it? Is she okay? I mean, she's gotta be almost thirty."

Olivia smiled. "She made it. You helped. You helped her then, and you helped her a month ago."

Ty's brow furrowed. "How so?" he asked. "You mean the woman on the pier?" Olivia nodded. "But, that's impossible. I mean, she had no idea. Plus, one of the officers called her Alex."

"Something happened, and she lost her memory. She may have suppressed it," Olivia explained. She pressed her lips together. "It's really important that I find out all of the information I can about her. There's a possibility we can go after her father for criminal charges."

Ty shrugged. "I wish I could tell you more. I mean, maybe I can answer some questions, but I can't think of anything off the top of my head."

Biting her lip, Olivia considered the information she would need. "Do you know her last name?" she asked.

Ty shook his head. "I don't think she knew, either," he said. "I asked her once, but she didn't understand. Or, maybe she didn't want to tell me. She kept saying no-no really fast, like, like she might punished." He sighed. "God, looking back, you know, it was so sad. I didn't really think about it at the time. She just needed someone to take care of her. I was happy to be a big brother, you know?"

Olivia nodded. "You made a big difference in her life, Ty," she told him. "You probably are the reason she survived that night. You said you saw her father chase her one night?"

"Yea, but I didn't pay a whole lotta attention. He was tall, dark hair. Uh, white. One of the few white people on the street, you know? They kinda stood out because of that."

"Yea, I can understand that. This place was definitely a bit different back then. No Wall Street elitists."

Ty chuckled. "Yea, they all disappear at sunset, still. Well, you know why."

Olivia sighed, tucking her hands in her pockets. "Yea," she murmured. "Did she ever mention a mother?" Ty shook his head. "Hey, what about her brother. Did you know his name?"

"Uh, yea. She called him Ian or Ibn, something like that."

"That might be helpful, Ty. Thank you. Hey, uh, call me if you remember anything else about her?" She handed him her business card. "Depending on what happened, well, I'd like to nail this guy to a prison cell."

Ty nodded. "You got it, Detective," he said. "Anything, I'll let you know. I'd love for him to rot."

Olivia tucked her hands back in her pockets as she made her way back to the cruiser. Once in the car, she took off, her mind a whirl. Alex's childhood had been awful and nothing short of it. She drove around for over an hour, just trying to process everything she had learned in the last twenty four hours. And, it was not just the information she had learned about Alex's – Becca's – past. A lot of it had to do with the present situation, too.

Not only was Olivia suffering from an actual crush on the woman, but she now had knowledge about her that even Alex did not know. She wanted to tell her, to help fill in that gap for her. But, she had no idea whether or not Alex really wanted to know – or if she would appreciate being told that she was someone's punching bag. With no mother in Ty's description, Olivia wondered at the validity of Alex's assumption that her mother had been a prostitute. Then again, even with a physically abusive father, the mother may have been a street worker. Alex may never have mentioned her if she was being pimped out by the father.

Finally, Olivia picked up her phone, dialing the prosecutor's number. She was still torn over telling Alex, but she wanted to talk to her about charging a father in a twenty year old child abuse case.

Alex picked up on the second ring, clearly close to her phone. "Cabot," she murmured.

"Hey, it's Liv. Sorry to call so early, but I have a legal question for you," Olivia asked, feeling the sleep enter her voice. Even talking to her about work made the demons inside of her rest, even if just temporarily.

"What is it?" Alex seemed instantly more awake.

Olivia sighed. "I have a case where the woman is a child abuse survivor. The abuse was so severe, it nearly killed her as a child, but no one was able to prosecute her father. Is that something still worth pursuing?"

"Depends on the total extent of the abuse, Olivia," Alex said, sounding irate. "You know this. You have to give me more information. What kind of evidence is there? I'd have to do some research twenty years is a long time for a law to change. You've got to give me more to work with."

"Um, a witness? To the abuse, I mean."

"And, the woman?" Alex pressed, her irritation growing by the second.

Olivia groaned. "Well, she might not be able to testify."

"Olivia," Alex snapped.

Pressing her lips together, Olivia picked at the steering wheel. "Can we, can we talk face to face? This isn't – this isn't a conversation to have over the phone. It – it has to – well."

Alex groaned. "I just put the coffee pot on," she said. "You know where I live."


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N: To the guest asking about statute of limitations - it totally depends on what the person is ultimately charged with. Certain statutes have no limitations while others have limitations ranging from 6 months to 5 years, in general. Each state operates a little differently, as well. In New York, you would reference New York Crim. Proc. S 30.10 - Timeliness of Prosecution. Of course, it is very much likely that the statute as it reads today would have read differently in 2001, and very much differently in 1983/4 ish when Alex would have been subject to the abuse Ty witnessed. The man who abused her might be charged with anything ranging from abuse to assault/battery to reckless endangerment of a child to prostitution of a child to attempted murder to sexual abuse of a child and just about anything else within that body you can show elements for (generally, the who, the when, the what, and the how) depending on the evidence according to today's statute. However, since a body generally cannot be charged ex post facto, the man who abused Alex would be charged according to the 83/4 penal code of which several of those charges likely did not exist. I hope no one minds that I did not go hunt one of those down to make sure everything was kosher._

 _As always, thank you for the reads and reviews. I hope you all continue to enjoy._

 _DMAA_

Ch 16.

 _Sleep did not come easy to her troubled mind._

Alexandra

February 14, 2001

Frustrated, Alex opened the door to her apartment. "You don't even have a complaining victim," Alex started in on the detective, incredibly and irrationally irate. She knew it had to do with the fact that it was Valentine's Day and, once more, she was the only single friend in her group which meant that her phone had been abuzz with text messages since early that morning of people reminding her she was single.

Not only that, but she had the worst headache imaginable. Her face had been throbbing for days, and it was accompanied by unpredictable bursts of white hot light between her eyes that even made existing simply painful. They had started off mildly but were getting gradually worse, and despite her mother being a physician and an eventual hospitalization over the past weekend, there were no leads as to what was causing the pain. It had made her short tempered and sleepless the past few days, and it was only getting worse.

Olivia, however, just stood at the door, her feet barely touching the mat before the door, her hands tucked into her pockets, her shoulders hunched over, eyes red and glossy, and she had the most overwhelmingly sad look on her face. It was that which stopped Alex in her tracks.

Brow furrowed, the young attorney looked over the detective, her lips moving as if she were trying to speak but couldn't. "Olivia, have you been crying?" Alex asked. Instinctively, Alex reached out and wiped as Olivia's cheeks. "Come on."

Alex guided the detective into her kitchen and sat her at the counter. "I have raspberry white mocha flavoured creamer." The detective slowly nodded, still not having said a word.

After pouring two cups, Alex set one before the detective before dragging a stool around the counter and sitting down across from Olivia. "Liv, this victim -" She swallowed, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Olivia would not have come to her about a legal situation if she had not been experiencing a true dilemma. "Is it, is it you?"

For several seconds, Olivia stared into her cup, her fingers clutched around the mug, the skin turning white as she pressed harder. Finally, though, Olivia shook her head. "No," she whispered, "but I know her, personally."

"Oh, Olivia," Alex purred. "I'm so sorry. I can't promise anything regarding prosecuting the bastard who hurt your friend, Liv, but I promise you have my full support in whatever else you need."

"I talked to a man today who was her childhood friend," Olivia whispered, and Alex prepared herself to be the supportive ear while Olivia got some of the situation off her chest. "He said that she used to go to his house to hide from her dad because he was a drunk. He says she talked about a white powder he took, too, so his guess was meth. He was just a kid, though. He didn't really know how to help, and he didn't know that he should call the police, that what was happening was a crime. Where they were growing up, it was, well, it was normal."

Olivia's hands fell away from her cup, and Alex took that opportunity to cover one of Olivia's hands with her own, acutely aware of the warmth from her skin courtesy of the freshly brewed coffee. "He talked a lot about the physical signs of abuse, but he said something that really made my stomach tighten. He talked about the father having a lot of parties, of men in and out of the home. I can't help but think that as an innocent little girl, she was being subjected to – to." She bit her lower lip hard.

Alex reached up and brushed the skin from between her teeth. "Trafficking," Alex murmured, nodding her head. "Liv, the statute of limitations has expired on a criminal case for child abuse and likely almost any other charge I could drum up, but I can recommend a few good attorneys who can help her sue the men who abused her. Has she gotten counseling?"

Olivia shook her head. "I don't think so. She just seems to have suppressed it all," Olivia murmured.

"But, when you tell her, it's going to all surface again," Alex observed. Olivia nodded. "Maybe ask one of the department counselors to help you break it to her."

Olivia nodded. "You think I should talk to her about it?"

"Yes," Alex said without hesitation. "Olivia, you don't know what she thinks about the situation. She might be struggling with everything in silence. You telling her you know might just be the release she needs. And, I know you, Liv. You're a great friend to have while dealing with the fall out from all of that."

Olivia nodded, withdrawing her hand from Alex's. Picking at the coffee mug, she stared hard into the creamy liquid for what felt like hours but was probably just several minutes. "Her name's Rebecca," Olivia finally murmured.

Alex's brow furrowed as she frowned. "The witness – it's the security guard?" Alex asked. "The one who saved me?" Olivia nodded. Gasping, Alex pressed her hands to her head, riding the pain until the light behind her eyes diminished and she could breath again.

"Alex," Olivia cried, on her feet and around the counter before the light even dissipated. "Are you okay?"

The blonde nodded. "I think so," she murmured. "I've been having these headaches. Just searing pain for a few seconds, and then a dull throb."

Olivia's eyes danced over her face. "You haven't slept in days, have you?" Alex shook her head. "Lex, you've got to rest. Have you been to the doctor?"

Alex laughed, flinching as she did so. "My mother, my doctor, and the hospital," she said. "All the tests run normal. I don't know what it is. My mom's got me on weekly blood draws. She wants to monitor everything."

"As well she should. You're her daughter."

With a gentle smile, Alex rested her hand on Olivia's cheek. "Stop worrying, mother hen. Tell me more about this case." She pulled her hand away, a tint rising in her cheeks, though she said nothing. She hoped, if she ignored it, the irresistible pull she felt towards the detective would fade.

"Not while you're sick," Olivia said, shaking her head.

"I'm not dying," Alex laughed, still flinching. "It's probably mostly residual from the attack. There's no swelling or anything, so I think it's all psychological."

Olivia frowned. "Maybe," she said. "Do you have court today?"

Alex shook her head. "No. Judge suspended the trial so no one has to think about violent sexual offenses while trying to be romantic," she quipped. "A real gentleman, that one."

"Well, good. Take full advantage and don't go into the office today. Get some rest. I'll let myself out."

"Wait," Alex said, standing as Olivia turned to leave. She reached for Olivia's sleeve, her fingers brushing the fabric. "Wait. The last time I slept soundly was with you. Please, just stay for a little while?" Alex let her vulnerability show through, and Olivia nodded. "Thank you."

Slowly, Alex reached out, taking Olivia's hand in hers and pulling her towards her bedroom. Olivia followed, slow, hesitant. "I just want to be held," Alex mewled, the tears threatening to pour over her eyes. "Pozhaluysta, pomogite mne."

Olivia's hand slid around her waist, holding her close, her face pressed against her neck. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so, so sorry." For a few minutes, Olivia stood with her, holding her, and Alex twisted in her arms, burying her face into Olivia's body, inhaling her scent. Everything slowed down inside of her head for just a few seconds, as she did that, and she felt Olivia hug her even closer.

When the detective stepped away, it was because Alex had first. The blonde hugged herself for a moment before shedding the blazer she had been wearing, hanging it back up. Her blouse went next, a silk number that she was not going to dry clean after wearing it for only an hour. Olivia glanced away, her eyes seemingly focused on the bed. "You've seen me before," Alex murmured.

"I know, but it's different," she answered. "You're not – we're not -"

Alex nodded, grabbing her pajamas and darting into the bathroom. There, she changed, pulling on the yoga pants and large tee that she so often slept in. She smoothed the fabric over her body, glancing at herself in the mirror. Make up covered the circles growing under her eyes, but it did not cover up the fact that they were sinking in.

Playing her fingers over her eye sockets, the ran across the bumps and grooves of her facial bones, not all of them typical of those bones. But, despite living in a loving, caring home, Alex had been a klutzy child, breaking several bones, including facial bones, through her teenage years until she grew into her gangling appendages and learned to be graceful. One sledding accident had permanently changed the structure of her eye sockets, accounting for the extra little bumps in the bone just below each eye.

As she examined herself, she wondered if the previous accidents had nothing to do with her current headaches. Perhaps it was one concussion too many. And, as if thinking about it called up the headaches, she staggered backwards, almost as if a force had pushed her, until she fell into her bathtub with a thud and a groan.

Blinking, Alex stared up into the face of the detective, unsure of how she had managed to get into the bathroom so quickly. She reached around to pull herself up, out of the tub, but a hand to her chest accompanied by the whine of a dog stopped her."You're okay, don't move," Olivia ordered.

Alex patted the area around her, startled to find she was already laid out on her bed. "How?" A rustle and a paw on her shoulder told her that Kibbles was lying on one side of her, and she reached out, her fingers curling around the fur.

"I carried you," Olivia answered. "You seemed pretty out of it, but you didn't lose consciousness, I don't think."

"I don't remember," Alex murmured, shaking her head. She cringed.

"Did that hurt?" Alex shook her head. "Why did you flinch?"

"The white," she mumbled. "It's back, and it's – it's like someone is shoving a hot poker through my head."

Olivia nodded. "Stay still. I'm going to get you an ice pack. No neck pain, though?"

"None," Alex said. "I landed on my back."

Olivia disappeared, returning with a small bag of ice. Gently, she pressed the pack over Alex's forehead, and the white flickered a little behind her eyes. "Thank you," Alex mumbled, lifting her hand to hold the pack in place.

The bed shifted, and she felt warm arms encircle her, replacing the spot where the dog had just been, the detective's hands holding her close, as if it would somehow help. And, in many ways, it did. A cool, wet nose pressed up against her cheek, and she reached over, petting the dog who had so diligently stayed out of the way. Gradually, the light and the accompanying pain drifted away.

Alex turned, burying her face in Olivia's shirt, one hand draped over her hip, fingers playing with the belt loop of the detective's pants. Her fingers dipped into Olivia's back pocket to pull her closer, brow furrowing as she found a piece of paper. Olivia stopped her from pulling the paper out, and Alex frowned. "What?" she murmured, looking up.

"It's a picture of Rebecca," Olivia said, holding Alex's hand still. "Ty confirmed it. You can look if you want, Alex, but it's – it's going to be a shock."

"What are you talking -" Alex pulled the paper from Olivia's pocket, unfolding it. The newspaper was crinkled and tearing, faded around the edges. Alex jerked away from her friend, staring at the photograph as she sat up. "That's, that's the, the picture they published in the newspaper, Liv. That's, that's me." She glanced in horror at the detective who merely nodded in response.


	17. Chapter 17

Ch 17.

 _It was impossible to look away. Everything about it horrified her, but she could not look away. There was just too much beauty in the damage._

Olivia

February 14, 2001

"Well, it's wrong," Alex yelled, pacing across her kitchen. "He's wrong. None of those things. None of those things he said ever happened to me." She covered her mouth with her hand, bending over, her other hand covering her stomach. She had already thrown up twice in the last half hour. Olivia was not sure if the attorney could vomit again.

Olivia meekly sat at the dinner table, her hands in her lap. "Alex, you told me before that you were aware you might have been abused. I mean, unless you remember differently, how do you know? I – I'm sorry, Lex. I'm so, so sorry. I can help you -"

Alex cringed, her hand going to her forehead as she placed most of her weight against her refrigerator. Her teeth were clenched, and Olivia was sure that both physical and emotional pain had to do with her experience in that moment. Carefully, moving slowly, Olivia stood up. "Stay away from me," Alex snapped, sliding down the stainless steel until she was sitting, sobs sending tremors throughout her whole body.

"Alex -" Olivia tried, hoping to connect with her on an emotional level. She gently pushed a tissue box towards the woman. It broke her heart to watch the woman she cared so deeply for to be suffering through so much. She could not even imagine.

"No," Alex yelled, picking up the tissue box and throwing it in Olivia's direction. It missed the detective, but Olivia doubted that Alex was actually aiming for her to begin with. "No. Apparently, my name's fucking Rebecca. Rivka." She snarled out the Russian diminutive as if it were a curse word.

"Alex," Olivia repeated, her voice soft.

"Rivka," Alex yelled. "Rivka."

Olivia placed her hands on her hips, letting frustration delay her response to her slowly shattering heart. "Fine. Rivka," she said, her voice harsh. It was far from the best solution, but anger had always kept her tears in check before, and it was anger that held her together in that moment. Without it, she would be just as big of a mess on the floor as Alex. Nothing about this was fair.

Alex jumped, scooting across the floor on her side, away from Olivia, her eyes wide and breathing erratic. She pushed at the floor with her feet, even as she backed into the cabinets, her body shrinking as she whimpered. "No," she hissed, tossing up her arm, covering her head as if in defence when Olivia moved closer, an attempt to offer comfort horridly mistaken for an attack.

"Pozhaluysta, ostav' menya odnogo," Alex babbled, even reacting with terror as Kibbles tried to offer her a reassuring head butt. The dog looked confused and just as hurt as her master, but she stood between Alex and the rest of the world as Alex whimpered and tremored on the floor of her kitchen, her eyes glazed, lost in her own little world of horror.

On the outside looking in, Olivia crouched, every second a fight to hold back the tears. As Alex continued to chatter and plead with some invisible force in Russian, Olivia lost her battle with her tears, helpless as she watched Alex quiver. Everything about that moment, that morning, was so very, very wrong. There had always been a sense of reality about her job, but it had never crossed paths with her own reality. In her reality, rape was real. Child abuse was real. Trafficking was something fucked up and distant, too distant to impact her personally. But, there she was, watching Alex break down over the mere proposition that she had been abused – not only physically, but sexually as well.

Alex screamed, her hands covering her head, nails digging into her own skin, and both Olivia and Kibbles lunged for her. Olivia wrapped her up, pulling her onto her lap. It was a small struggle, but she managed to restrain Alex's hands against her chest, holding them in place to prevent her from continuing to hurt herself. "Sh, sh, baby girl," Olivia murmured. "It's just you and me, and I've got you. I've got you, Alex. Hush, Alex." Olivia resorted to repeating the name over and over hoping that hearing the name Alex and Alexandra would help Alex to associate with reality.

It took an hour, but Alex's fear wore out, leaving her exhausted and heavy in Olivia's arms. For a long time, she just lay limp in Olivia's lap, her eyes focused on some distant space. In those minutes, Olivia knew that nothing she said would register and that even the mere touch of the detective had not made it into Alex's cognition.

After a while, though, Alex's eyes drooped, and she turned just slightly. The detective was not certain whether or not Alex was back in reality or if she was still gone, just exhausted and hurting, the movements an automatic response from her body. Finally, the blonde looked up at her, eyes tired but aware. "Liv?" she asked, licking her lips.

"It's me, Lex," she replied, stroking the hair out of her face. "I'm glad to see you back."

Alex shook her head. "I can't go there," she whispered. "I can't go back." The look of horror in Alex's eyes was enough to stave any questions Olivia had. There was no way, that day, that it would be worth it. Once Alex had a chance to process it, she would be able to determine whether or not she wanted to share anything with Olivia. Until then, Olivia promised, silently, that she would not ask. On the kitchen floor, entangled in the detective, fingers white as she clenched the woman's shirt, Alex cried herself to sleep, Olivia stroking her hair and rocking gently.

When she was sure Alex was asleep, Olivia stopped rocking, carefully lying Alex on the floor before she stood. "Okay, Kibs, don't trip me," she murmured. "I'm going to move your human to the couch."

The dog whined as if in response. Over the course of the past month, Olivia could tell the human and the dog had bonded. Kibbles was a very sweet dog, more likely to hide than to defend, but Olivia could see the affection that the animal had for her newest master. And, Alex had been the same, almost instantly showering praise and affection on the shelter rescue.

Olivia scooped Alex up, surprised for the second time at how light the woman was. Carefully, she lay the woman out on the couch, pulling the blanket over her. Sitting with her back against the couch, Olivia played with Alex's hand, soothing her as she moaned periodically, her dreams clearly disturbing. Every so often, Alex would gasp, her eyes opening as she cried out, but she always fell limp again, and Olivia did not have the heart to fully wake her. She speculated that Alex's body had been operating on empty for so long that it had just given up, totally drained after the panic attack. It happened from time to time, and with the pain of the headaches Alex was dealing with coupled with some tension surrounding her pier attack only a few weeks prior, Olivia was not surprised that sleep did not come easily.

A soft jingle from the kitchen attracted Olivia's attention, and she quickly moved, grabbing the cell phone before the answering machine kicked in. _Mom._

Biting her lip, Olivia answered. "Alex's phone, this is Olivia," she said.

"Is Alex available?" a chipper woman on the other end of the line questioned.

Olivia looked back at the sleeping woman. Her body had finally settled, eye lids fluttering softly. Her body twitched minutely, but it was no where near the violent jerks Olivia had been watching her make. Alex had finally, completely, fallen asleep, the worst of the panic attack over. "Not at the moment. Are you her mother?"

"Yes. Is she okay?" There was the first hint of concern in the woman's voice, a mother checking in on her child only to find that her child could not respond. It was one thing to leave a voice message. It was another, Olivia knew, to have someone else answer the phone. And, the woman was a doctor. She had to think the worst. Still, Olivia wanted to reach out to Alex's mother. The younger attorney had said that she was close with the pediatrician, and Olivia felt that support would be paramount in that moment. But, it was also not Olivia's place to tell the other woman what was going on.

Licking her lips, Olivia toyed with that answer, but her hesitation was too long. A mother knew. A mother always knew. Even her own had known, neglectful as she had sometimes been. "What's wrong with her? Is she in the hospital again? Those headaches -"

"Mrs. Cabot, she's, she's home. She just had a lot of emotional back lash today. I'm – I'm a detective she works with; I'm also investigating the attack against her at the pier. Something came up from that case that ties into the case she was involved in as a child."

The mother was sharp, clearly having earned her medical degree by intellect. "You found out about where she comes from?" she questioned. "It's the only case she's been involved in that I've been made aware of."

"Yes," Olivia said. "Unfortunately, it's not pretty. I think she experienced a flashback. She cried herself to sleep, but she could really use positive support right now if you're available later for her to call."

"I can visit her," the woman answered. "If you think that would be okay with her. I don't want to upset her more."

"I really think you would be a great person for her to see and talk to at this point." Olivia paused, frowning before she said it. "Help remind her that she is who she's always been, that knowing something doesn't change who she is."

"Sure. I'm on my way. You're at her apartment?"

"Yes, ma'am," Olivia said. They hung up, and Olivia returned to her sentry duty by the couch, a knee drawn up to her chest as she picked at her pants. It would be a lie to say that she was not worried about Alex. She was less worried about something happening to her than she was that Alex would simply withdraw and become vastly unavailable, emotionally and physically. That level of isolation could do permanent things to her emotional state of being as well as her personality.

As she took Alex's hand in her own, the blonde's fingers curled around her. "Don't let go," Alex whispered, turning to her side as she looked at the detective. Her eyes were still puffy from crying, but there were no tears when she looked at her. Instead, there was this darkness in her eyes that Olivia could not explain. The detective almost asked what had happened, but she did not, remaining with her promise to only be supportive and not investigative.

Olivia smiled. "You're awake," she mused. Alex nodded. "How are you feeling?"

"Nauseous," Alex answered. "Confused." She licked her lips, looking down before looking back to the detective. "What you said – what Ty said, I don't remember that. I remember other things. I guess I have for a while now. They've been coming back in tiny flames, sometimes as a dream, sometimes associated with a smell."

"You have scars," Olivia whispered, her fingers tracing Alex's fingers. "I didn't want to ask about them when you were over. You deserve to be able to process through your memories, Alex."

Alex nodded. "I remember some of the scars. I thought I was just making it up for the longest time. They're not super consistent with anything," she murmured, shaking her head. "When you called me that, that name, it was like everything just smashed into me. I mean, there's a lot of blanks, but the fear, the smell of blood and the ocean. I remember the pier being safe. He couldn't find me there. I think that's why I went that day. We fought, and I – I meant what I said, I – being with you feels natural, and that scares me. But, instead of dealing with it, I instinctively went to where I felt safest."

Olivia nodded, brushing Alex's hair back from her face. "That makes sense," she mused, rubbing her thumb over Alex's ear. For a few seconds, they remained in silence, Olivia combing her fingers through Alex's hair. "Your mom called. I told her you needed some emotional support."

Alex nodded. "I think it will be good to talk to her," she whispered. She played with Olivia's hair, twisting it between her fingers. "Why are you so good to me?"

Olivia smiled. "It's easy, I guess," she mused. "It just comes naturally."

With a soft chuckle, Alex traced Olivia's jaw and lips. "You really are just that good of a person."

"Oh, I don't know about that," the detective replied. "You've just never actually seen me angry." She offered a gentle smile, and when Alex returned it, she leaned forward, brushing Alex's lips with her own. "You've got me, Alex. I hope you know that. No matter what happens, I'll be here until you tell me to leave."

Alex nodded, her thumb to Olivia's lips, though she did not move away. "Thank you," she whispered.


	18. Chapter 18

Ch 18.

 _Adaptation was easy. Survival was easy. Resignation was inevitable. But, the idea of not being able to go home with any kind of good news was painful._

Nataliya

February 20, 2001

"They're everywhere," Alex said, staring at the poster in the window. "Nat, when did you have time to do this?"

"When do I not have time?" the other woman asked, beaming. "Helen made me pictures with Sofiya's face on them. I put them everywhere I could think of. Then, when I was out, I asked her if I could put pictures of other people in places they might get seen. She gave me many. I thought 'where do people go?' and, then, I put the pictures there. These may not bring Sofi home, but if they bring one other person home, I think – I think Sofi would be happy."

Alex smiled. "What about you?" she asked, her fingers grazing the picture, absently tracing the jaw line.

The wide grin on Nat's face betrayed that she was genuinely enjoying the volunteer work she did for the NYPD. "I would be, uh, you say, joyous," she said. "Uh, happy jumping."

The prosecutor laughed, and Nat watched as the laughter made it to Alex's eyes. It had not all morning, and that made Nataliya sad. She could not imagine the weight that the woman must bear, to carry the stories of a thousand people like her, women who had been defiled, who had lost everything. It was good to see the woman laugh. "Jumping for joy," Alex said.

"You Americans," Nat said, laughing as well. "I would jump very high for joy. Everyone deserves to be found."

"You think?" Alex asked, her eyes going serious again.

Nataliya pressed her lips together. "You remind me of my father," she said. "So serious. Yes, everyone. No matter what."

"What if they don't come from a good place?" Alex asked.

Nataliya's brow knitted of its own accord. "You?" she asked. "You come from bad place? Bad parents?" Alex nodded. "Do you know their names?"

"No, I was abandoned," Alex admitted, biting her lower lip and looking away.

Nataliya nodded as though understanding. "I think if you did not want to know, you would not ask permission."

She watched as Alex started, as though physically struck by such a notion. Her mouth worked in tiny motions for a few seconds before she nodded. "You might be right," she murmured, shaking her head quickly, her serious eyes replaced with a light, kindhearted smile.

Nataliya remained still. "What happened to you?" she asked.

Alex shook her head. "Nothing you need to worry about. Why don't I buy lunch and we talk about your testimony?" she asked, quickly changing subjects.

Still, the dark haired woman rested her hand on Alex's arm. "I am not just victim in case, Alex," she said. "I am another woman. I am another Ukraine woman. That makes us like family, you understand?"

"I do," Alex said, a surprisingly genuine smile crossing her features. "Thank you, Nat. But, seriously, lunch?"

The other woman laughed. "Okay. You are stubborn. Lunch. But, I pick where."

"Alright," Alex said, gesturing to the side walk. "I'll follow you."

With a smile, Nataliya indicated a take out sub restaurant just down the street. "They have really good sandwiches," she said. "Thank you, also, for not having me come into your office. I hate being inside. I really do."

Alex's lips pressed into a soft line as she nodded. Nataliya frowned, glancing a way. It was strange, she had thought, to have a stranger know so much about her, about her growing up in the Ukraine and about her experiences in America. Yet, despite the lack of familiarity with the other woman, Nat had found that she trusted Alex. In the few months that Alex had been working with her, Nat had come to know that when she promised something, she made certain that it happened.

Although, Nat had also noticed that Alex was slow to make promises. It was that deliberation, however, which made her all the more trustworthy as far as the brunette was concerned. To see that someone actually considered not only their actions but their words was reassuring. She had not been lying – Alex reminded her of her father, but it was in more ways than one.

They sat at the park, eating lunch, legs stretched out in front of them, backs against a tree. "You know," Nat said, setting her sandwich down, "it was like this when it happened."

"When what happened?" Alex asked, setting her meal down on the napkin on her lap and twisting to face Nataliya.

"Sofi being taken," Nataliya murmured, her voice quiet as she looked over the nearby street. They had discussed, in depth, the trauma that Nataliya had faced after stepping onto United States soil. It was the only aspect which Alex had been able to prosecute. Everything before then had never really been a detailed topic of discussion – including Sofi's disappearance. The detectives and even the prosecutor had asked only the information necessary to trace the now woman during her stay in the United States. They knew who had taken her and to whom she had been sold. But, before that, the details, the facts surrounding Sofi's kidnapping, those had remained a mystery.

"Tell me about it," Alex said.

Nat licked her lips. "We were five," she said, nodding her head. "Sofi and I went to park after helping mama clean house that morning. I wanted to play games with other children. Sofi just wanted to draw and read. So, she sat under tree, and I ran off. I could still see her if I looked back, and I made sure to check to see if we were meant to go home. But, I did not check enough. Sofi, she, she trusted everyone to be good. She did not understand evil. Neither of us."

Shaking her head, Nat drew her arms around herself. "I looked back, and she was talking to man. She seemed familiar with him. I thought maybe he was one of her strange friends. She seemed okay. I ran after football in our game and kicked it. It bounced in direction she was supposed to be. When I chased after ball, she was gone. That's when I saw it, blue car. It was driving away, fast, and I did not remember it pulling up."

With a gentle touch, Alex rested her hand on Nat's arm. "I'm so sorry, Nataliya," she murmured. "You know it's not your fault, right?"

"I should have gone over to see what was wrong," Nat murmured, shaking her head. "I should have known. She was my sister. I should have known."

Alex shook her head. "No," she said. "You were five. You were supposed to trust adults. If you had gone over there, then you would have both been taken. Who would be brave enough to come all the way to America to follow a possible lead? Who would have fought to find you both?"

Nat sighed. "You would think that after twenty three years, I would not miss her nearly as much. But, I think that ache in my heart grows every day. I wish I knew what happened to her."

"We're doing everything we can, Nat," Alex reassured her. "Every piece of information you've been able to give us has been such a huge help in us being able to track her down. You know that you have our support in this investigation. We're all here for you and Sofi, and we're here for the long haul. If this is the case that I take with me to retirement, then this is that case, Nat. I'm not going to give up on her."

Pushing tears away from the corners of her eyes, Nataliya nodded slowly. "Thank you, Alexandra," she whispered. "You have no idea how much this means to me, to my family. My mother, she says you and Olivia and Helen are gifts from God; angels, she calls you. I talk to her every day now, and she tells me, she says 'go tell those angels thank you, Talia, you make sure to tell them so God not take them away.'"

Alex smiled, offering out a clean napkin. "We're not going anywhere. I know Helen's been working very closely with the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children to comb through all of the known child trafficking cases in the system. Olivia's working on tracking down the men who purchased your sister in the States. And, I am just here to make sure they have access to whatever system they need the moment they need it."

"Thank you," Nataliya whispered. "You know what, though? I am not sure what I am more afraid of – not finding Sofiya at all or finding out that she was killed in painful and frightening manner and is buried in shallow grave somewhere." She shook her head. "It is sometimes very painful to think that I survived childhood free from pain she had to endure. I do not think I would ever be able to stay sane if I found she was tortured to death."

Reaching out, Alex gave Nataliya's hand a squeeze. "I think that as long as we still look, there's still hope that she is out there, that she is alive, and, who knows, maybe she somehow managed to escape all of that."

Nataliya looked up at Alex, a soft smile across her features as she pushed aside the tears. Once her vision was clear, however, she saw the tense look on Alex's face, her brow furrowed, eyes dark. "Alex, are you okay?"

"Yea," Alex murmured. "It's just a migraine. I spend too much time in the darkness of my office. The sunlight – but, I need to get out more often." She smiled, but Nat knew the woman was lying. She knew because she had lied, too, about the severity of pain. It was a survival technique, something someone did when they did not want others to know.

"Alright," Nat said. "If you are certain."


	19. Chapter 19

Ch 19.

 _The words haunted her, but more than that, it was the images and the scent of memory. The smell of the sun and the grass, the memory of the sounds of laughter and shouts. The sharp scent that made her head spin. The smell of blood, her blood. The crack of the belt. Sounds, yells in a foreign tongue. She remembered not understanding. And, that was the most haunting of all._

Alexandra

March 9, 2001

She woke up vomiting. Again. It was common place for her now, so much so that she kept a trash bin by her bed, rolling over almost automatically. Her body was feverish and trembling, and over the course of the week, she had become weaker than a new born kitten, her body frail.

The worst part was that she did not understand it. Her doctor could find no reason for her to have become so physically and nearly violently ill, but there she was, barely able to hold herself together throughout the day. Even her boss had ordered her to stay away from work, not for fear that whatever she had was contagious but for the fear that she would pass out in the office and injure herself.

Wiping her mouth, she groaned. She had another blood draw that morning at the doctor's office and then lunch with her mother. Her mother, the doctor. She was worried about her, and Alex could not blame her. She supposed if she had a child who had managed to find herself in some kind of legal trouble that she would worry, too. It came with the profession.

It took every ounce of will, though, to get up. In the month since Olivia had discovered her past, Alex had not asked her mother for information about her past. She had only asked about the possibilities of having been raised in the area where she had been located and, subsequently, in the area where she had been attacked almost twenty years later. Claire Cabot had only said that it was very likely and it had been that understanding of her possible living situation coupled with the fact that the pier was regularly known to be used by prostitutes and their Johns that had encouraged the police to believe that Alex was the daughter of one of those prostitutes. For the first time, too, Alex had learned that it had been speculated that she was being kept from her mother the majority of the time, a token to be used to compel her mother's cooperation in sex trafficking.

The nightmares had become more regular since then. Alex woke up several times each night drenched in sweat and barely able to remember anything. She could hardly stomach food. Some days, she was lucky to just be able to drink water. It really was no wonder she was frail and becoming increasingly ill. Most nights, she could not tell if she was awake or dreaming, and the migraines were becoming almost unbearable. When she was not dealing with the white hot pain of her headaches, she was contending with feeling cold, nauseous, and dizzy.

Once standing, Alex walked into the bathroom, already feeling exhausted before she even managed to step into the shower. The warm water helped her feel more normal, and she sat down on the floor of the shower, enjoying the steam and warmth. Even her bed was no longer warm enough despite the fact that she had both of her winter comforters on the bed.

It was not the knocking on her door that roused her. Nor was it the fact that she could distinctly hear someone walking through her apartment because, in those moments, she was not in her apartment. She would have sworn in court that she was in a darker place, her vision fading in and out.

 _Voices swirled around her, ones that she did not understand. Hands lifted her arms, eyes inspecting her body. Someone opened her mouth, looking inside her. She imagined swallowing them up, wondered if that would stop it._

 _Fingers pinched at her body, pulled at her skin. She was so dizzy and hungry. Then, a shirt was pulled over her head. She was given shorts to put on, and she was barely able to pull them over her non-existent hips before a hand roughly closed around her arm, dragging her forward before shoving her back into a chair. Afraid, she remained totally still as the woman behind her cut her hair until she looked like a boy. There were more words, so many angry words, but she felt so sleepy._

 _When she woke up, everything smelled differently. She was in a dark box, and it was all a familiar dream. The door to the box opened, the light blinding. A man stepped forward, spoke to her in Russian. He promised her food and treats if she came with him. He told her he was taking her to a better place. She was so hungry and so cold and so tired that she agreed. He took her to a car and sat her in the back seat. As they drove, he gave her candy granola to eat, and she wondered what new place she might be going to that it was okay to eat candy._

 _The car stopped and the door opened, and she climbed out of the vehicle, following the man up the stairs. The house was a two story, but not very wide. The other houses were so close that they seemed to share walls. A man she had never met before leaned down to look at her, a soft smile on his face._

" _I am your new father," he said, his Russian feeble. "I've adopted you."_

" _No more box?" she asked, her voice tired and hopeful._

 _He nodded. "No more box. You never have to go to that dark box again. Isn't that exciting, Rivka?" He handed her a hard candy, a little different from the ones she had been eating in the car._

"Alex, Alex," a voice above her repeated her name, the voice soft but loud in her ears. "Come on, Lex. Open your eyes."

Alex groaned, blinking.

"She's awake," Olivia called. "Hey, Claire, she's awake."

"Ya ne pozvolil s"yest' konfetu. Teto skazal," Alex mumbled, her head lolling to the side. "Teto? Teto. No, no." She bucked her body, twisting violently only to find strong arms around her. "No. Let. Let go. Please. I. No. Stop. I do. I do."

"It's okay," Olivia murmured, holding her close. "Oh, God, Alex, it's okay. I've got you. I'm so, so sorry. I've got you."

Gasping for breath, Alex clung to the detective, her fingers wrapped around Olivia's shoulders as she trembled. Exhausted, she leaned into the other woman's chest, her panting coming under control as she wore herself out. "Mama, pozhaluysta, ne ostavlyayte menya," she whispered. "Pomogite."

"Lexie, it's me," Olivia whispered, soothing her fingers through Alex's hair. "I've got you, baby. No one's going to get you. He can't hurt you here."

The next thing Alex remembered was waking up on her own bed, the comforter pulled up over her. Her body ached and her head throbbed. Groaning, though, she climbed out of her bed, wrapping the comforter tightly around her. Every step was like a small lightening bolt vibrating through her, the white hot arrows behind her eyes growing more intense until, yelping, she collapsed again in her bedroom door.

"Close your eyes, baby, shh," the detective's soft voice cooed as someone scooped her up. "I got her arm." Alex gasped, flinching as the pin prick of the needle felt like the electric chair.

"It's mostly going to be pain management for her at this point," the warm, familiar voice of her mother murmured, a hand running through Alex's sweat drenched hair. "Dilaudid won't knock her out of it nearly as much. Alex, can you hear me?"

Alex nodded. "Why? What happened?" she asked, her breathing escalating as images floated back in tiny scraps without any sense of time or place. "He's here?" She felt her heart beat quicken as she trembled, her fingers clawing at Olivia's shirt, desperate to be closer to her, to become a part of her. "You can't let him find me."

"You remember," Olivia whispered. Alex opened her eyes, staring up wide at Olivia's brown eyes. In them, she found sympathy, but she also saw something else, something that reminded her that she was an adult. The man who had called her Rebecca had not been a part of her life for twenty years. It was that which she clung to, fighting the memories and thoughts that made no sense.

"I can't tell the difference," Alex whispered. "Then feels like now. Except – except now."

"Do you remember me?" Olivia asked, her fingers stroking down Alex's cheek. "Do you remember when you were in the hospital and you stayed with me after?"

"Yes," Alex whispered.

"Focus on that. Focus on me. Remember the day we met? You called me an idiot and I called you a callous bitch?" Alex smiled. "You do. God, I couldn't have been more wrong, could I?"

"You weren't the first – or the last – to call me that," Alex answered candidly, her reality coming into better focus as the pain died away in her head and she could focus her attention on the detective. "Besides, I don't know how wrong you really are. I do hear some of the words that come out of my mouth."

Olivia laughed, cradling Alex in her arms. "Sometimes, I've wondered," she admitted. "How are you feeling?"

"The pain's pretty much gone," Alex answered. "I'm kinda hungry."

As Olivia laughed, Alex smiled. "Does that mean you'll make me lunch?"

"I'll ask the doctor," Olivia murmured. "Make sure you're allowed to eat."

"Blood draw first," Claire piped from the couch.

"Mom?" Alex's eyes went wide as she pulled away from the detective, panic rippling through her body.

The woman laughed, standing and stretching. "Well, I couldn't very well ruin your moment, could I, Lex?" her mother teased with a soft smile. "But, seriously, who do you think gave you the Dilaudid?"

Sighing, Alex leaned back against the wall, her hands limp in her lap. "I'm sorry," she murmured.

"What for, child?" her mother asked.

Olivia scooted from her position in the doorway to a spot beside Alex, her head resting on the blonde's shoulder. "I'm pretty sure your mother figured you out a long time ago," she murmured, brushing Alex's hair from her face, tucking it neatly behind her ear.

"Oh," Alex murmured, still not looking up to meet her mother's gaze. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Alex. Your father and I knew before you were in high school. I think the only thing your dad's upset about is that you still haven't come out to us." Claire crouched beside her daughter, a reassuring hand on her knee. "Honey, you're my daughter. The only thing I care about is that you are happy with your partner, whether it is a man or a woman you fall for." The doctor leaned closer, adding, in a whisper, "But, this one's pretty great. You should hang on to her."

Alex glanced to Olivia who was flushing a deep, deep crimson. They had discussed their mutual attraction to each other, but only in so much that it was something that neither woman could afford to pursue. Their professional lives depended on their not being involved with each other. In so many ways, Alex continued to hold a supervisory role over Olivia in that it was her reports that enabled each detective to continue with the unit. More than once, Alex had overlooked a mishap for the benefit of the unit as a whole, and she knew Elizabeth was more than aware of what was going on. Still, the success rate in prosecution had sky-rocketed with the cooperation of the detectives. Abbie had been good, but she had been under considerably more scrutiny than Alex was meaning the blonde could get away with more. And, Alex had taken advantage of that in full stride. Yet, Alex had to admit, even without intentionally doing so, in so many ways, they had become closer than normal as friends. She could not imagine that any of her friends would have stayed with her the weekend when she was injured, let alone allowed her to stay with them. She doubted, too, that any of them would have treated her the way Olivia had that morning, caring for her, even going so far as to call her mother for help. She had known Trevor most of her life. Her parents thought of him as a second child. But, she doubted that even he would have known what to do.

Carefully, Alex slid her hand into Olivia's, lacing their fingers as she offered a gentle smile. "Yea," she murmured. "She's good to me."

The silent question dominated her eyes as she looked to Olivia, the detective's brown eyes searching her soul. Olivia smiled back, her fingers tightening around Alex's, the only reassurance that the attorney needed.


	20. Chapter 20

_A/N: Happy New Year, friends. May it be joyous and wonderful. Thank you, as always, for the reads and reviews. DMAA_

Ch 20.

 _In the early morning light, the world seemed at peace. But, she knew that to be a lie, the truth of the matter a wrenching hole in the soul of humanity. And, there were days, so many days, when she felt alone in the fight against all of that darkness._

Olivia

March 9, 2001

Alex remained cuddled on the couch that afternoon, at times drifting off into sleep, but mostly just staring into space, alone in her thoughts. Sometimes, without realizing it, she would cry out while in a trance. In those moments, arms wrapped about her, soft and strong and warm, and she seemed to settle down once again.

The mild sedatives seemed to take away some of the anxiety, and the pain killer, she said, diminished the blinding headaches. It still left Olivia worried and Don more than happy to allow her to tend to the prosecutor that day. She was still on call, but she had also asked a favour from Elliot that morning, a rarity, and he had granted as much, taking the majority of the work burden from her.

"You doing alright?" Claire asked as she stepped into the kitchen.

Olivia nodded. "Yea. It's strange to see her so vulnerable. Can I ask you something?" Olivia dropped the six slices of bread across three plates. She was not really hungry, but she knew Alex needed to eat. The prosecutor had said she was hungry hours earlier, but the trip to the hospital for a blood draw had squashed her appetite as well.

"Sure," Claire said, handing Olivia the deli meat from the refrigerator.

Licking her lips, Olivia considered her question as if she were pondering how to make the most ideal sandwich. "Uh, when she presented to the hospital, as a child, did you – did you complete a rape kit?"

Claire's eyes lowered. "What happened to her at that house, Olivia, it's not her fault."

Olivia nodded. "I know. She was a baby. It's – if it makes you feel any better, it won't change how I feel about her. But, she's starting to remember more and more, and this distortion between reality and memory are – it concerns me. I don't want her to be trapped in a memory. If I have an idea of the possibilities of abuse she endured, I might be able to help walk her through it. She can't be sedated forever."

The doctor nodded. "She showed no signs of recent or long term sexual penetration, but that doesn't mean she did not experience forms of sexual abuse in less physically obvious manners. I've long suspected that she witnessed sexual violence, but I don't know to what extent."

Again, the detective nodded her head. "Was that what she was saying earlier? When she was yelling in another language?"

"Russian, and, no. She was yelling about how she wasn't allowed to eat candy because her father did not allow it. She's always used the word Teto for her father, even when she's spoken Russian, if it's during a nightmare. That's Ukrainian for dad or daddy." Claire sighed. "She was also begging her mother to help her. She used to wake up in the middle of the night screaming for her parents or screaming about candy. She claimed she didn't remember waking up, and I never knew why she yelled about candy. Maybe she remembers more now."

Pressing her lips together, Olivia sighed. She finished making the sandwiches in silence, finding some baby carrots in the fridge to serve on the side. "How much do I ask her about?" Olivia asked. "I want to find the man who hurt her and feed him his own ball sack. But, I'm not really the detective on this one. It's probably been too long to prosecute him for anything. Statute ran out. And, even if we found him, defence is going to question an identification that took twenty years. But, I've never – I've never been on this side of an assault, never the friend watching someone I care for go through so much pain."

"Maybe don't," Claire said. "Let her bring things up with you. If she wants to talk about it, she will. What she won't ask you for is physical reassurance. I know you're more than willing to hug her and hold her, but don't forget to do it. She never asked for hugs growing up, but when we gave her hugs, she held on to us. The more stress she's feeling, Olivia, the tighter she'll hold on."

The detective nodded. "I think I've noticed," she mused, picking up two of the plates.

Sitting down beside Alex, Olivia brushed the woman's hair from her face. "Hey, Lex. Are you awake?" she murmured. The attorney's eyes were open, but she seemed non-responsive as she stared ahead. Rubbing Alex's arm, Olivia continued, "I brought you something to eat. You said you were hungry earlier." Alex barely blinked her acknowledgment.

Carefully, Olivia pulled the blanket away from the woman's torso, tucking it down around where her elbow rested on her side. Leaning over, the detective pressed a kiss onto Alex's shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere, Alex. I want you to know that. Whatever it is you're thinking about or remembering, you can talk to me about it when you want to. You aren't going to scare me off."

Almost as though with deliberate care, Alex rolled over onto her back and looked at Olivia, her eyes sparkling and wet. Even as she blinked, it freed the tears clinging to her soul, and Olivia reached over, brushing them away with her fingers. "Why now?" Alex whispered.

Olivia smiled softly, sadly. She wanted to know why Alex. The woman was a hard head and did not put up with anyone's shit, but that was what made her priceless. There was truly not a person that Alex accepted ill treatment or crap from. She had a skill and a habit of outshining even the people who threw her under the bus – and, in everything, Alex worked so hard to help others. She had her own ambitions, there was no mistaking that, but she worked hard to be the voice for those who could not share their own voice. "I don't know, baby," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Alex mumbled. "Stop apologizing."

"It doesn't mean that my heart can't break a little, Alex. I really do care about you. It's impossible to not wish that I had been there to protect you then. I was a scrappy teen, you know? I would have kicked his ass. Or, at least, I would have stolen you to go live somewhere better." Olivia stroked Alex's hair. "I don't know where, but I like to think I would have figured something out."

Alex laughed. "You would have been, what? Seventeen? Eighteen? You really think you would have chased around a maladapted little kid?" She sat up, curling up on the couch. "I was pretty awful those first years. You can ask my mother. I would bite and kick and scream and hit. No one could touch me. I cried when I got hugged -"

Olivia wrapped her arms around Alex, feeling the blonde melt into her. "And, look at you now," she murmured. "You overcame all of that, and now, you cry when you're not being hugged."

Alex smiled, leaning against the detective. "Yea," she whispered. "Just don't tell anyone else that."

They cuddled for several minutes, Alex running her fingers over the hem of Olivia's shirt while Olivia just relished in the idea that the woman was hunkered down in her arms. She was not able to protect Alex at all times, but at the heart of it, if she could ease the emotional burden for even a few minutes, she was willing to take it.

"Thank you," Alex finally whispered. "I know today wasn't planned out this way, but thank you for staying with me."

"Of course, Alex," Olivia murmured. "Any time you need someone, you call. I'll come running. I promise."

With a soft smile, Alex tipped her head up, pressing her lips briefly against the detective's. It was nothing overtly passionate. In fact, it was quite chaste and innocent, but it said enough. Olivia understood.

Olivia's phone buzzed, and the detective groaned, flipping the device open to answer. "Benson," she said, regretting her need to stay on call that afternoon despite being out of the office as Alex snuggled up against her, her head a welcome weight against Olivia's chest.

"It's Helen. Do you have a fax machine nearby?"

"No, what's up?" Olivia questioned, her brow knitting. It was a strange phone call to say the least, but she supposed it was not all that unusual, especially given the fact that Helen probably thought Olivia was in or near the office.

"I have a lead in the Andreiko case," the other detective replied. "But, you're going to have to see this to believe it."

"I can be down there in about twenty minutes. Is that okay?" Olivia asked. She felt Alex sit up, her body recoiling from the detective's, puzzle written over the attorney's features.

Hanging up with Helen, Olivia gave Alex an apologetic grimace. "Helen's got a lead regarding Sofi," she whispered.

"Go," Alex said, her eyes widening as she leaned forward, almost as if she were urging Olivia out of the door. "This woman and her family have waited twenty three years for answers. If you've got a lead, Liv -"

Olivia smiled as she leaned over, kissing the attorney gently. "I knew there was a reason I liked you," she murmured. She kissed Alex again, quickly, before standing. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Keep your phone close. I'll text you with any updates."

Alex smiled, nodding. "Just, uh, just be safe."

Olivia was torn between being at Alex's side while she healed, remembered, and panicked and her duty to the case that they had all grown overly attached to. She was still trying to decide what mattered more to her when she walked into the Missing Persons Bureau at the precinct.

"Olivia," Helen said as the Special Victim's detective walked into the main office, eyes scanning for the woman. "I've got confirmation on Sofiya's identity. The good news is, she's alive. Carrie sent over the composite last week, but we had a possible DNA hit in the system, too. Both – actually, both match. They make perfect sense. I have the composite for you to look at as well as the DNA results."

"Great," Olivia said. "We can get those distributed. Maybe someone's seen her."

"Someone already has," Helen answered. "Lots of someones, Olivia. Me. You. We know this woman, Liv." She picked up the paper from the printer with the composite on it, and Olivia stared. Familiar eyes stared back at her, and she felt her whole world freeze. "The computer puts it at a ninety percent match on a non-identical twin match. The only thing that doesn't align, Liv, is her orbitals and cheek bones. And, her birthday."

Olivia licked her lips. "A sledding accident," she mumbled, her heart constricting in her chest. "You can't tell her." She physically had to use the counter to remain standing, her world spinning around her. "It might not be her. It'll destroy her."

"We have DNA confirmation, Liv. She submitted it herself in an unrelated matter. The coroner's office was running it for John and Jane Doe hits in the morgue. When they hit this case, they called me. I wanted checks run to be certain. This – this hits a little too close to home."

Licking her lips, Olivia nodded. "Tell me about it," she mumbled. Her phone began to buzz, and Olivia pulled the phone from her pocket. One glance at the unknown number left her puzzled. "Benson," she answered.

"It's Alex, Olivia. She fell asleep shortly after you left and woke up screaming. I tried to calm her down, but she ran out of the apartment. Liv, she's got no shoes, and she's in pajamas. As ill as she is, she's vulnerable. If someone attacks her -"

"I'll find her, Claire," Olivia said. "I promise. Stay at the apartment. Call me if she comes back, but in the meantime, call all of her friends and relatives in the city. Let them know she's emotionally vulnerable right now. Claire, was she yelling anything significant?"

"She kept screaming 'Daddy, no,' in English. Bring her back to me, Olivia. Bring my little girl back." Olivia could hear Claire fighting the tears.

"I will, Claire. I will," Olivia said, her heart in her throat.

Olivia hung up, looking to Helen. "Alex – she's in trouble. I have to go. This is more important." As Olivia turned to leave, she caught the other female detective behind her, pulling on her jacket as she hustled to follow Olivia out of the station.


	21. Chapter 21

Ch 21.

 _A thousand lies parted like the red sea, and all she saw was darkness._

Alexandra

March 9, 2001

The wind was cold in the shade, and there was no more sun for her to move in to as she curled herself tighter, arms wrapped around her legs as she shuddered violently. Part of her was longing to go home, and despite her upscale, uptown apartment, it no longer quite felt like home to go to. Everywhere just felt like some kind of bad memory; everything she had ever done just seemed so false, as if it were no longer her accomplishment. The sun finally vanished beyond the city, and a hand on her shoulder made her jump.

Swollen, tear-filled eyes turned to see the warm smile of an older Hispanic woman. "Sorry to startle you, dear," she said. "I'm with Saint Francis shelter for women. I saw you sitting here, and I wanted to offer you a place to stay tonight if you don't have somewhere else to go."

Shaking like a leaf, Alex finally realized how cold she was. Her feet were bare, toes a mild shade of blue, and she realized that flexing her fingers was difficult, at best. Her pajamas were thin and absolutely of no use against the cold. Nodding, Alex accepted the help of the other woman, standing and walking with her to a van. "I – I have a place to live," Alex finally whispered.

The woman nodded. "Is it home?" she asked.

"I don't know," Alex answered, a fresh wave of tears cascading over her cheeks. "I'm so cold."

"There's a blanket in the van, and I'll turn the heater up. Come on, dear. My name's Maria. What's yours?"

"A – Rivka," Alex stammered.

"Rivka is a beautiful name," Maria said, helping Alex to climb into the front seat of the van and pull the blanket around her violently shivering frame. "We'll head back to the shelter, and if we see people along the way, we can pick them up, too."

Alex nodded. "Thank you," she whispered. Huddled in the van, she stared out the window as Maria drove, her eyes focused ahead but not seeing any part of the city she had always called her own. That night, she felt like a stranger in her city. More than that, she felt like a stranger in her own body. They picked up two other women, and one woman declined assistance.

Alex curled on a bench inside of the shelter while a case worker talked with one of the other women. "Rivka," a woman said, crouching in front of her. "Are you okay?"

"Just cold," Alex murmured.

Without a second thought, the woman handed her a hat and a pair of socks. "Steven is looking for some shoes to help warm you up. In the mean time, why don't we go to my office and talk. You, um, well, Maria was concerned you might be running from an abusive spouse."

Alex shook her head. "Too many lies," she whispered.

The woman nodded, and Alex pulled the socks on her feet before following her into her office, the blanket from the van still squarely around her shoulders. As she walked, she felt the darkness swarm in from her peripheral vision, and she swayed. The stranger caught her, steadying her and helping her to sit down. "When was the last time you ate?" she asked.

"I don't know," Alex answered. "I'm not hungry."

"You should eat something. Allergies?" Alex shook her head. The woman stepped away, returning to the office a few seconds later with a plate wrapped in plastic wrap, a sandwich, some potato chips, and a cookie neatly wrapped beneath the plastic.

"Thank you," Alex murmured, but she set the tray on a corner of the desk and did not touch it. Instead, she drew her knees up to her chest and held on to her ankles. "Thank you for the socks."

"You're very welcome," the woman answered. "Why don't you tell me a bit about you?"

Alex shrugged. "My name's Rivka," she murmured. "I don't really know much else about me, it seems."

"Maria said you have a place to live?"

Again, Alex nodded. "I should go back there," she whispered. "I just – It's stupid, I'm sorry."

The woman shook her head. "It's not stupid, Rivka. Are you safe if you do go back, or do you think someone might hurt you? You can stay the night, get some sleep, and re-examine everything in the morning, too."

Alex shook her head. "I'll be safe. I'm the biggest danger to myself, anyway. I should – Can I call someone? She's a – she's like my older sister."

Pushing her landline towards Alex, the woman nodded. "Dial nine to get out, and then whatever number you need. I'll come back in a few minutes."

With hesitation, Alex brushed the tears from her face. "Thank you," she whispered. Alex dialed the number from memory.

"Carmichael," the woman on the other end picked up. She sounded rushed, and Alex could hear the clicking of a keyboard in the background.

"Abs?" Alex squeaked.

The clicking went silent. "Alex?" Abbie questioned. "Where are you? I'll come pick you up."

"Saint Francis Women's Shelter."

"Oh my God, Lex, what happened?" Abbie sounded worried, and Alex could hear her moving, the rustle of her jacket as she pulled it on. "Are you okay?"

"I'm alright," Alex mumbled. "I was cold. They gave me socks."

Abbie chuckled, and Alex broke into tears. "Oh, Lex," the federal prosecutor murmured. "I'm so sorry."

Alex shivered, her crying uncontrollable once again. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, Lexie," Abbie murmured. "I'm on my way, alright? Stay where you are. I'll come in and find you."

"Okay." Alex hung up, waiting for the other woman to return, her legs drawn up close to her.

When the other woman stepped back in to the office, she offered Alex a warm smile. "Did you reach your friend?" she asked.

Alex nodded. "She's going to come pick me up. Thank you. Um, if there's anything I can do – I – let me know?" she asked.

The woman smiled. "Just keep safe, okay?" she said, offering a reassuring hand to Alex's shoulder. "Do you want to sit in here until she gets here? It'll give you some time to think and process."

"Thank you." Alex released her legs, the feeling of being small and vulnerable not really familiar to her. In silence, she sat in the office, picking at her fingers and chewing at the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood and had to stop.

"My life is a mess," she muttered to herself as she shuddered.

In the warm office, she was no longer feeling the cold of the New York night, but there was still a deep, dark coldness inside of her that lingered. It lingered with the memories as they surfaced like tsunamis, pushing into reality until she could swear she was there, still. She could taste the vomit in the back of her throat, the smell of the leather seats, bleach on her hands and burns on her knees. There were those first nights, when she did not know, when he had handed her a brush and a bucket, and she had been made to clean up the blood and vomit. Except to clean, she was not allowed in that room. And, even to clean, she was rarely allowed.

Mostly, she swept and did dishes. She dreaded every meal. She would scrub and dry each plate and have to stand on the very tips of her toes to put the dishes in a high place. It seemed unfair that they were placed so high up. Sometimes, she slipped, and the plate would shatter across the floor. And, like a dragon, the beast would rear its head with an angry roar. If she was lucky, the punishment was an open hand across her face. If he smelled of alcohol or she knew he had been using the white powder, she just prayed she would stay awake. And, those were the nicer days.

When the visitors came, the men in suits and jeans, she learned to hide in the closet, as far back as she could, lest they see her watching them. The water burned her skin when they found her, her so-called adoptive father scrubbing her raw, yelling at her. She cried out, blindly reaching out in front of her, surprised when she found a hand to grasp hers. Her body was pulled up and out of the chair she was sitting on, and warm arms encompassed her.

"They burned me," she whispered, holding on to the other attorney.

"You're safe now, Lex," Abbie murmured. "Everyone is going to be happy you're alright." Abbie smiled as she sat the younger attorney back in the chair. "Are you physically alright? You don't have injuries?"

Alex shook her head. "Just cold feet," she whispered.

Abbie smiled. "I'm sure Olivia can help you warm them up," she murmured. "Why did you take off?"

Shaking her head, Alex stared at her lap. "I don't know," she whispered. "I wasn't really in my own head. I don't even remember leaving. What's going on with me?"

"I don't know, Lexie," Abbie replied. "I'm sorry. Olivia said you were struggling with memories?"

It was a lead, and Alex recognized as much. She nodded her head.

"What's going on?"

Biting her lower lip, Alex shrugged. "I remember what they did – not just to me. To the others. We were the youngest, but there were others, they were older. I was the only one small enough to climb through the window in our room. That's how – that's how I got out. But, I didn't know where to go. It was all I knew of America. And, a dark box."

Abbie nodded. "Olivia filled me in a little when she called earlier today." Abbie sat on the chair beside Alex, tugging the chair around to face the blonde. "Do you remember anything before the box?" Her eyes searched Alex's, and Alex met hers, pain twisting her face. "What do you remember?"

"Everything," Alex whispered, shuddering. "The blue sedan, the man – it's all me."

Abbie stroked the back of Alex's hand. "How long have you remembered that?"

Alex shook her head. "Clearly? A few days, I guess. Not long. I felt stupid thinking about it. I thought I was imaging things, getting too attached to the case. But, I'm not, am I?"

"No," Abbie said, her voice soft. "Why don't I take you back home? Olivia's there with your mother. I told her you called me."

"Did anyone tell Nataliya?" Alex whispered, her voice as unsteady as her shaking hands.

Abbie shook her head. "Olivia wanted to talk to you before moving in any direction in the case." Abbie picked up Alex's hand, watching her intently, but Alex could not bring herself to meet her friend's eyes. "I can't even imagine, Alex. Whatever you need from me, I am happy to provide."

"Can you tell me why me?" Alex asked.

"I wish I knew," Abbie answered. "I'm so sorry, Lex. If I knew, I would tell you. But, I can tell you that you have all the support and love any of us can offer. This doesn't change who you are. You're a great lawyer. You're a beautiful woman with an amazing soul. And, you're my best friend. Remember that, okay?"


	22. Chapter 22

Ch 22.

 _The daytime was alright. It was the nights that were the hardest. She slept less and worried more. The dreams and nightmares were so real, sometimes she even thought she could see them._

Olivia

March 15, 2001

Alex sat up screaming, her eyes wide, but Olivia knew she was not awake. The Trazadone was keeping her asleep throughout the night, but it was not stopping the night terrors. Over the course of the almost week, Alex had been in and out of reality, medicated for anxiety, and prone to panic attacks. Claire was worried that the trauma was still something Alex did not have the coping skills to process, and Olivia feared that she was largely right.

The possibility of her being brutalized as a young child had never been something that they had worked on. There had been the discussion, and Alex had been aware that she might have been abused, but there was little preparation for the extent to which she had been mentally and emotionally abused even if the physical abuse left no major deformities.

There was something permanently damaging about being ripped away from one's home. Alex's walls had made little sense to the detective once she had learned about her upbringing with the Cabots. In the few weeks that they had known each other, Olivia's conversations with Claire had always been with a woman who was open, trusting, and incredibly compassionate. Alex had been shut off from day one. As she wrapped her arms around the blonde, Olivia could not help but wonder if the walls Alex had initially set up had been the very walls that had kept her out of her own head. Psychosomatic amnesia.

"It's okay, baby," Olivia whispered, near enough to be able to help Alex if she woke up or suddenly needed help, but far enough away that she would not startle the woman in the midst of her night terror. More than once, she had accidentally woken Alex up only to be hit, kicked, and scratched by a woman who was neither in the present or in a position to be aware of her real situation. She was so far gone in her head most of the day that Olivia physically hurt on Alex's behalf.

After a few seconds, Alex lay back down, turning over onto her side. Slowly, carefully, Olivia lay down beside her, arms wrapped around her. They were in Alex's apartment. Initially, Alex had only wanted Olivia to stay a single night with her, but when the second night had come, Alex had called her in tears, begging Olivia to go over to her home, stating she had seen something moving in the darkness and she was too afraid to turn on the lights.

Even though they had established that the terror-filled images were in Alex's head and not in reality, Olivia had never left. During the day, she remained in and out of the apartment with a heavy emphasis on in. At the very least, if she was not there, Fin or Elliot was, two detectives that Alex seemed to tolerate, even if it was quietly.

Alex had not wanted to go into the squad room or talk to any of the other detectives initially, so Olivia had been the one to show them the DNA hit that Helen had gotten as well as the DMV and composite match. While the composite had not been super close, Olivia had to admit that it was a near match. Apparently, there could be a huge difference between identical and non-identical twins. She had never met anyone to know the difference.

Once the other detectives had been made aware of the situation, they had been nothing but supportive. Fin stopped in every morning to check on Alex, almost a big brotherly type of support that Alex had seemed to appreciate. Olivia was grateful to her coworkers. Although the relationship that seemed to be developing between the two women was not public, their closeness had not gone unnoticed by the men she worked with. Even the ones that remained hesitant to trust Alex were responding as more than a detective to a victim, even though Alex had become a focus of a case, but as a friend and supportive role. Alex had risked a lot in the short time she had been with the detectives. She had called in favours to help crack cases, lectured the detectives but, despite her role with the Morris Commission, had not reported the detectives on fixable offences. Really, Olivia knew they owed their collective jobs to the woman, particularly on a handful of cases. It was a shared passion they all had. Alex could just get away with a whole lot more.

They had held off telling Nataliya that Sofiya had been found. Alex did not want to tell the Ukrainian national, telling Olivia that she was afraid the woman would either not believe her or be too demanding that Alex be her sister. The detectives and the doctor had agreed that it was best to let Alex process and deal with the information first. Once she was in a more positive place regarding the news, then they could talk to Nataliya about it. That way, Olivia had figured, both women would be appropriately supported. It was going to be an emotional day for Nataliya, and Olivia worried that breaking the news before Alex was ready would cause Alex to shut down and pull away and Nataliya to feel disappointment.

Olivia woke before Alex did the next morning, sliding away from the warm body of the woman still out cold from her medication. She navigated around a kitchen that she was quickly becoming familiar with, preparing an easy breakfast for when Alex did eventually wake up. The bright side was that Alex seemed perpetually hungry which was a relief since she simultaneously had decided that she did not want to eat. Eventually, she caved to her hunger, even if she only picked like a sparrow at her food.

"Hey," Alex murmured. Olivia looked up and smiled at the wisp of a woman leaning against the door frame. Despite the sleep she was getting, the darkness under her eyes seemed to be growing, her eyes seeming to sink into her cheeks. Alex forced a smile. Every smile those past few days had seemed forced, for Olivia's benefit, and the detective knew it.

"Good morning," Olivia said, stepping forward, brushing Alex's cheek with her fingers. "How are you feeling?"

"Still pretty surreal," Alex admitted, licking her lower lip before biting it. "I still can't get over how lucky I've been."

"What do you mean?" Olivia asked.

Alex swallowed. "I should be dead. Claire and Richard really pushed to have me placed with them, upper west side, away from everything I had been. If I had been fostered in the area I had been found, he might have found me, taken me back. If Don hadn't found me that night, I would have died on the pier. If Ty hadn't protected me – he cleaned so many wounds, Olivia – I would have died from infection. The man who bought me, he didn't care. He used to tell me he could get hundred more girls like me, make girls like me. He had enough whores in that house." She wrinkled her nose. "That was the first English word I learned. Whore. He caught me in the closet once, hiding from the men who came over. It was after someone had left, and he was looking for me, but I had fallen asleep. When he grabbed me, he laughed and shoved my face into his crotch. He still had his clothes on. Daddy's whore. That's what he called me."

Olivia's brow furrowed in confusion. "Alex, are you talking about two different men in that house?"

"Oh," Alex breathed. "I suppose." Her brow pinched. "I guess. I didn't really think about it. There was the man who made us call him Daddy, and then there was the other man, the man who beat us, the man who bought me."

The detective nodded. "I'm sorry, baby," she murmured, not yet wanting to discuss in depth what Alex did recall. In part, Alex was reluctant to explore her own past. She had dug in her heels at every questions from INTERPOL, but she had information that could help locate other trafficked children as well as the man who orchestrated it all. At least, that was what they hoped. In reality, Olivia could see it in Alex's eyes – the blonde was still so uncertain about what was real and what was imagination, there were so many blank spots. Olivia no longer had to ask questions about the case, so she had stopped, waiting for, as Claire had suggested, Alex to tell her. "I am so grateful to the people who helped you. You don't deserve to have had all the bad happen to you. I wish it hadn't."

Alex stared at Olivia for a few seconds. "Why not?" she asked. "If it hadn't, I would never have been in the U.S. We never would have met."

Olivia paused, considering Alex carefully. After a moment, she sighed. "You sound like my mother," she mused, shaking her head.

"Your mom's right, though, isn't she?" Alex shook her head. "Some bad experiences are crucial to the good experiences we encounter. It's the only way I can keep from going crazy, you know, to keep telling myself that. It must be true, though. I mean – you're, you're amazing Olivia. I'd endure hell if I knew someone like you was on the other side."

"You've already endured it, Alex," Olivia said, taking Alex's hand and leading her out of the kitchen and back to the bedroom.

Alex sat on the bed, watching as Olivia pulled open her closet. "What are you doing?"

Turning, Olivia offered a gentle smile. "You'll see," she mused, picking out a pair of thick, black leggings and laying them on the bed beside the attorney. She leaned over quickly and pressed a kiss into Alex's cheek. "Do you trust me?"

Alex only nodded, her eyes watching as the detective moved about her room, finding a grey sweater dress and undergarments. Alex laughed. "Are you picking out my outfit?" she finally asked.

"Yes," Olivia said, stopping. "If you'll wear it?"

"Where are we going?"

Olivia only smiled, tossing a pair of socks on the bed as well.

"Alright," Alex said. "Then, I want my black boots, the ones with the poms."

Olivia laughed. "Whatever my princess wants," she purred.

As Olivia set the boots beside the bed, Alex reached out, grabbing the detective's wrist and pulling her closer. Olivia smiled, one hand on either side of Alex's hips as the blonde played with her hair, fingers grazing across her lips. "Alex," Olivia whispered, the name automatic from her mouth.

Alex replaced the fingers at Olivia's lips with her mouth, her hand moving to clench the detective's night shirt, pulling her onto the bed with her. "We're not in any hurry, are we?" Alex panted as they both came up for air.

"No," Olivia said, shaking her head as she grinned down at Alex. "Today is for good memories, Alex. Whatever it is you want."

"I think a wonderful memory is the memory of the way you feel inside me. I want more memories like that, Olivia," Alex said, pushing Olivia's night shirt up and off her body, tossing it to the floor, flipping them over as she did so before adjusting to comfortably straddle the detective.

Olivia moaned, heat rushing through her body as Alex leaned down, dotting a trail of wet kisses starting from her neck.


	23. Chapter 23

_A/N: Hello, friends. Someone mentioned in their comment that they hope reviews are posted soon. Does this mean that I'm not the only one who cannot see reviews dated after 12/30? I thought maybe it was my computer (sometimes, it throws a temper tantrum and refuses to update pages), but it might be a site issue. I am sure that if it is a site issue, it will be fixed, soon!_

 _However, if you are posting as a guest, I do have the moderate reviews turned on, so it may take an extra day or two to post depending on how close I am to my computer when you do review. I have had some issues in the past where people have used the reviews opportunity to bash other pairings within the fandom, and I was asked by concerned readers to help regulate that as some reviews were shocking even to me (and I don't "shock" easily). I do write multiple pairings, and turning on the moderation did curb the amount of non-fic related negativity being posted. I won't ever delete a review from someone who does not like the story, only from people who use the review to attack other members of the website or other pairings inappropriately. Please, continue to post guest reviews! Just be patient with me.  
_

 _In the mean time, I am getting the emails with your reviews, and I appreciate all of the reviews very much! A lot of them have made me smile. I am glad everyone seems to be enjoying the fic as much as they are. And, I promise, Alex will talk with Nat here, soon. :)_

 _Always,_

 _DMAA  
_

Ch 23.

 _Even when the darkness threatened to swallow her, the light never seemed to dim._

Alexandra

March 15, 2001

"What are we doing here?" Alex asked as Olivia turned the car off Wall Street. Even in the daylight, Alex's heart hammered in her chest as her eyes darted around, searching for men that the police department had been yet unable to locate. The last time she had been on the pier, she had been vulnerable, an easy target, confused and in a terrible emotional state. Not much had improved except that she had an armed body guard with her that time.

"You don't have to get out if you don't want to," Olivia said, parking the squad car on the pier and stepping out of the vehicle. She opened Alex's door, the blonde frozen to her seat. "But, I want to show you how beautiful it is here." Olivia held out her hand, but her eyes held no expectation of the prosecutor.

Swallowing, Alex nodded, taking Olivia's hand. If it weren't the detective standing there, she probably would have broken down in tears, but it was her, and she trusted the woman with her life. With more than her life, she realized as she stepped onto the pier that had changed her life so many times. The air was crisp, cold, and salty. She could smell the oil, slick over the water like a coat.

With careful steps, Alex followed Olivia to the end of the pier, past the place where she had been knocked down, her vision swimming as two men stood over her; past the place where the shack had once stood, behind which she so often hid, wooden boards her protection from the wind and snow. She could feel her heart in her throat, and if she had had a proper breakfast, she would have thrown up already.

"You're shaking," Olivia whispered.

Alex nodded, whimpering. "I was coming here," she whispered, "the night Don found me. I was going to throw myself in the water. I wanted to die."

Stopping, Olivia pulled her close, their bodies warm against each other. "And, now?" Olivia asked. "What about now?"

"I don't understand," Alex murmured, shaking her head. Her brow pinched as she watched the detective's hand move, stroking her cheek. When the detective came away with wet fingers, Alex understood.

"I'm so grateful he found me," she whispered. "I had a guardian angel that night who's been following me ever since." Alex ran her fingers over Olivia's jacket, the fabric soft, warm, and inviting beneath her fingers. She saw, in that moment, why her adoptive mother had been so fond of running her fingers over her husband's jacket. There was safety in that gesture, and it was wonderful. "She led me straight to you."

Olivia smiled. "I'm glad he found you, too," she whispered before she pressed her lips against the attorney's. The kiss deepened quickly but separated just as fast, Olivia tracing Alex's lips. She smiled, laughing softly. "You know, no one on the squad knows I'm bi."

Alex flushed. "I don't plan on outing you," she whispered. "I'm not ready to transfer units."

"Me, either," Olivia laughed, her hands on Alex's hips. "But, I want this to work between us."

The prosecutor shrugged as she leaned back against the railing, her hand holding the cold metal, the chill helping to remind her to think with her head and not her heart in that moment. "I do, too," she said. "I -"

The detective cut her off, mouth covering hers. "I know it doesn't replace the bad memories," Olivia whispered.

Alex smiled, draping her arms around Olivia's neck. "No, it doesn't," she said, "but, it gives me new ones, good ones. It's that your end game today?"

Olivia nodded. "I want you to have at least one positive memory anywhere that you can associate with a terrible experience. This is your city, Alex, your life. You deserve to be able to look in every crevice with a smile, no matter how dark things were or things become. We see hell and the worst of mankind each and every day in the office. When you close your eyes at night and when you walk down the street or take the train anywhere, I want you to be able to look around you and remember that, in moments, there was something that made you smile."

"I was wrong, earlier," Alex answered. "My guardian angel didn't lead me to you. You are my guardian angel."

Olivia laughed. "If I can ease her duties, I am only happy to do so," she quipped, kissing Alex's mouth and cheeks in quick, rapid succession. "Seeing you happy makes me happy." Olivia pulled Alex to her by her hips, stepping back as she did so.

Without warning, Alex felt her feet leave the ground, and, laughing, she tightened her grip around Olivia's neck. "Oh, my God, detective. Put me down. Put me -"

"Nope," Olivia said, spinning her. Alex laughed, her legs locking around Olivia's body, instinctual fear of being dropped overriding, even as she laughed loudly, head tossed back. As Olivia stopped, her lips met Alex's neck, sucking softly as the detective adjusted her hands to better support the woman in her arms. "You're amazing, you know that?"

"You're not so bad yourself," Alex said. "I may have finally fallen for someone right when I fell for you." She pressed her forehead against Olivia's, her eyes dancing over the brown eyes of the detective.

Slowly, Alex unwrapped her legs from Olivia's hips, the detective letting her down. In silence, they stared at each other for a while. Alex could feel her throat constrict before she turned away, her eyes finding the squad car behind her as she fought to memorize every ding she could see at that distance – and, there were many.

"You ready to go?" Olivia asked, following her gaze.

Alex shrugged. "I should probably -"

"Can you tolerate another stop?" Olivia asked. Alex turned back to Olivia, her eyes pressed in confusion, silent question on the slight part of her lips. Olivia smiled. "I want to take you somewhere you haven't gone before, too. Nothing fancy or totally out of the ordinary, but I'll put money on the fact that you've never been there before."

"Where?" Alex asked.

"Wanna see for yourself?" the detective teased, tugging Alex back to the car.

Curiosity genuinely peaked, Alex climbed back into the car, her head cocked as she watched the detective in silence. As they drove, Olivia's eyes flicked to Alex every so often, but the blonde had not moved, one knee drawn up to her chest in the cramped police unit.

"What's up?" Olivia finally asked.

Alex smiled. "Nothing," she said, her voice soft, distant.

"Liar," Olivia accused, but she smiled. "Hey, North or South?"

"Uh, south," Alex answered.

The detective nodded. "Alright."

When she parked the car, Alex looked around her. They were in the business district of lower Manhattan. People walked the street in business suits, leaving their offices for the day, and they all existed in the shadow of two of the tallest buildings in the world. Looking up, Alex could not quite see the top of either, and the view from below was dizzying.

"As a child," Alex confessed, "I used to worry that the buildings would fall on top of me."

Olivia smiled. "If they did," she said, "I would protect you. Come on."

Alex followed Olivia into the lobby of one of the buildings and over to a small desk in the corner, a man bent over some kind of computer, his uniform crisp. "Jesse," Olivia said. "Hey."

"Liv," the man said with a bright smile. "I cleared it through the Port Authority. You're golden. Just be careful. I don't want to do paperwork today." He held out a key with a FOB on a lanyard.

"You're my hero," Olivia told the man as she took the key and took Alex's hand. "I have to show you something."

Alex's brow furrowed. "An office building?"

"A city," Olivia said, guiding them over to the elevator.

"What? Olivia?"

The detective smiled. "You know, both 1 and 2 World Trade Center are over thirteen hundred feet tall. One was the tallest building in the world until 1973. The Willis Tower took the title. And, since then, several others have been built up."

"Gotta have the better skyscraper, I suppose," Alex said. "Taller, more impressive."

"It's still the tallest building in New York."

"Terrifying," Alex said, shuddering.

"You're not afraid of heights?"

Alex shook her head. "No," she said. "Why?" The doors opened, and Olivia stepped out. Alex followed her down the hallway to another doorway that Olivia opened with the FOB key. A loud whirring drowned out any questions that the attorney had about where they were going, and she silently followed Olivia up a set of steps and out another door, one that Olivia had to use the second key on the lanyard to open.

Fresh air hit her like a blast. It even lacked the lingering scent of trash that the street thirteen hundred feet below them held, truly fresh air. Closing her eyes, Alex took a deeper breath, feeling the cold penetrate her lungs. She could not help but smile.

"Feel alive, yet?" Olivia asked, taking Alex's hand and guiding her up the narrow two step stairs that lead out the door and onto a gravel roof top. Alex physically felt her heart stop. "It's okay. Trust your feet. They know where ground is."

Swallowing, Alex nodded, stepping forward with the fearless detective. As she looked beyond her tour guide, her breath caught in her throat. The entire city was laid before her, and, as she turned around, she realized she had the most pure view of their island and everything beyond. "Oh, my God," she breathed, stepping slowly and carefully around the roof top of the tallest building in New York City.

"This is – how did you – holy -"

Olivia laughed. "This is your city," the detective said, smile spreading on her features. "And, now you've seen a side of it very, very few people have."

"It's beautiful," Alex whispered. "I can't believe I get to live here, to be here, to be a part of this." She turned to Olivia. Even though they were mostly protected from the wind by the structure near the center of the tower, the cold bit through her clothes. She was able to ignore the almost burning cold, the beauty of the view numbing her in a very different manner. "I've pulled a lot of strings in my life, and I know the kinds of strings you had to pull to be able to bring me up here. Thank you. Thank you so much. This was everything I needed."


	24. Chapter 24

Ch 24.

 _At night, the lights seemed so bright, brighter than the sun. It was the worst possible time to think, leaving her head spinning and her teeth clenched._

Nataliya

April 3, 2001

In the kitchen, the Ukraine woman pattered around, two children already playing at her feet. The eldest, a girl of about six carefully carried eggs, one at a time, to Nataliya, handing them to her as if they were pure gold. The little boy, maybe a year younger, sat on the counter, stirring a batch of biscuits.

"It smells so good in here," Lily said as she stepped into the kitchen, coffee cup in hand. She was the overnight desk coordinator, helping to make sure the women and children in the shelter stayed safe overnight. She smiled at Nataliya. "You're so sweet. Did Dora leave you with the kids today?"

"I love it," Nataliya said. "They are good kids. And, Dora has to work. I have no job. I was teacher back in Ukraine. This is perfect. It makes me very happy." Nataliya beamed as she scooped the boy off the counter and set him on the ground. "Tony, you go get the pan from the closet, okay? The one looks like a funny donut."

"Ya!" the child exclaimed, racing into the adjoining room.

"Are we making Monkey Bread?" the little girl asked.

"Something like it," Nataliya answered.

Lily filled her coffee cup. "Thank you for making fresh coffee, Nat. Would you be interested in running a cooking group for the kids?"

Nataliya paused. "Really? I could do that?"

Lily nodded. "Sure. Tuesday and Thursday or something, just an opportunity for the kids to have a little fun and learn something. I think, it might distract you, too."

Biting her lip, Nataliya frowned. "I feel badly not focusing my attention on everything I need to."

"Hey, Alex will keep you up to date on the criminal case. And, you've done so much in your sister's case. It's okay to take care of yourself, too."

Nataliya nodded. "Alright," she said. She had long figured her sister to be dead. According to the detectives, when she had asked, no bodies with matching DNA had come up through the system, though. No Jane Does of any age. Their last meeting had been a week prior, though, and Nataliya had sensed that they were holding something back. Olivia and Helen seemed to skirt some topics, and that worried the young woman for fear that they were starting to give up.

"I think, after criminal case, I am going to go home," Nataliya said. "It is beautiful city, but I cannot stay forever. I think, I think I have my own life to live. I miss Sofi, but I was so young." She shook her head. "Except for my parents' memories, I have very few of my own. I may as well have not had sister."

Lily nodded. "It's okay to take care of yourself. Besides, I've known Detective Benson for a long time now. They've got your sister's case. They won't stop looking until she's found."

Nataliya shook her head. "It seems to me like they have stopped looking."

"When do you meet with them next?"

The brunette shrugged. "Alex called and asked me to come to her office this afternoon. I guess that means we are close to trial."

Lily nodded. "When does the trial start again? The tenth?"

"No, Monday. The ninth. I'm nervous."

"Tell Olivia. She'll be more than happy to support you through this. And, from what I can tell from Alex, she's good to have on your side." Lily poured herself more coffee to top off her cup. "Can I do anything to help out?"

Nataliya shook her head. "Not unless you need break."

Lily smiled. "I have a stack of paperwork in the office. Besides, I think the kids are having way too much fun with you, Nat. Let me know if you need anything."

Nodding, Nataliya turned her focus back to the children, helping them to pour the biscuit batter into the pan, layering it with cheese. As the biscuits cooked in the bunt cake pan, Nataliya made omelets with the children, enough to feed everyone, including staff, at the shelter.

That afternoon, she caught a bus over to the District Attorney's office. Alexandra Cabot picked her up in the main lobby, unable to meet her eyes as they walked. Alex had her lips pressed tightly together as she walked, her eyes firmly focused on the floor.

When they arrived at the office, Alex opened the door and stepped aside. "What is going on?" Nataliya asked, her heart hammering in her throat. She felt as though that afternoon was the start of something terrible. Her eyes darted to the other people in the room – Olivia Benson, Abbie Carmichael, the original prosecutor on the case, and Helen Owens.

"You found her," Nataliya said. "You found Sofi." Her eyes darted to each of the faces of the women in front of her. "Is she? Is she dead?"

"No," Alex said, licking her lips. "We, uh, I need to talk to you about the criminal case – the trafficking and sexual abuse charges are being dropped at the local level. Abbie is going to be filing federal charges. They linked Michael directly to a national trafficking ring. We got confirmation from INS yesterday afternoon."

Nataliya nodded. "Okay," she said, tears filling her eyes. "This is good, yes?"

"Yes," Abbie said. "It means that he'll be in prison for a long, long time. I have additional federal charges to file against him, too, because of the trafficking element. It means trial won't be until November. His attorney has already agreed."

Nataliya nodded. "I think, I will go back to Ukraine," she whispered. "Forget case. Forget about America. I see look in your eyes. Sofi is – she not coming home."

Alex and Olivia stared at each other for a second before Alex picked up a piece of paper on her desk. "The DNA you submitted to the coroner's office at the beginning of the case – we got a hit."

With shaking fingers, Nataliya took the paper. "I not understand," she said, her eyes darting over the page, but she did not know how to read English. "She is dead, then? They have her body?"

Licking her lips, Alex looked down. Nataliya watched her as she trembled finely, tears clinging to her eyes. Something about this was causing her a great deal of emotional stress, and she could see the supportive response from the other women in the room as both Olivia and Abbie moved closer to her, subtly, but it was there. They probably had not meant for her to see it, but she had survived based on her ability to read into subtle motions. She saw it.

"Do you – do you remember the conversation we had about wanting to know your family?" Alex asked, her voice soft. Nataliya nodded. "I submitted my DNA through the coroner's database to see if my mother had been admitted as a Jane Doe to the Potter's Field. She hadn't. It turns out that my mother is alive. So is my father. They live in Kiev." Alex began to shake harder, her hands trembling like leaves, barely clinging to a tree despite the winds of winter.

Nataliya took a step to the couch in the prosecutor's office, sitting down, her heart pounding in her ears. She stared at the paper. "The two pictures are almost same," she said, her eyes darting over the images.

"Yes," Alex said. "The one on the left is yours. The one on the right is mine. We have the same parents." Alex swallowed. "When I was found by the police as a child, I was so injured they couldn't get much information from me. By the time I was able to talk, I didn't remember what happened. I didn't know my name or where I came from or what had happened over the few years I had been alive." Alex handed Nataliya another composite, one that looked similar to Alex, the cheek bones a little harder than Alex's, and her hair brown. "I've dyed my hair since I was fourteen."

The realization settled into her brain, and she felt herself just kind of go numb. She stared at Alex, everyone around her just kind of vanishing until even Alex was blurry and gone. Breathing was difficult, and her heart felt as if it was going to burst through his chest. She cried out, bending over, her hand clenching on her stomach.

"Sofi," she whispered.

A door closed, and when she could see again, both Alex and Abbie were gone. Nataliya was curled on the couch, staring at the floor. "She's really -"

"Yes," Olivia said, crouching beside her. "We double checked. When the DNA came back, the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children re-evaluated their image of her. Because you two aren't identical twins, it is actually very likely that Sofi would grow up looking just like she does. Alex told me she had broken her orbital sockets in an accident. The healing process altered her facial structure minutely, but DNA doesn't lie."

"My sister is not only alive, but she is successful lawyer. She's – she's -" Nataliya could not help herself as the tears dripped down her cheeks. "Where did she go?"

"She's afraid you'll reject her," Olivia said. "She remembers a lot of bad things when she was taken, but she doesn't remember the good things before she was taken."

"Can I talk to her? She left."

Olivia nodded. "She'll be back soon, I promise. Abbie is talking to her. I think this is going to be overwhelming a while for each of you."

Nataliya nodded. "I just, I can't believe that she is alive. I am so happy. I am happy that she is okay." The tears combined with a smile. "Mother will be so thrilled. Thank you. I was going to give up hope. I thought you stopped looking."

Olivia smiled. "Everyone deserves to be found," she mused. 


	25. Chapter 25

Ch 25.

 _There was no such thing as enough time. There was never enough time to relish the beautiful nor enough time to absorb the ugly, to move on. She never understood how people did it._

April 3, 2001

Alexandra

Abbie knelt on the tile floor beside her, a hand on her knee. "Alex, sweetie," Abbie purred, rubbing her thumb over the prosecutor's skin. "We didn't think this was going to be easy, for either of you. It's okay to feel upset. Just talk to me."

Alex drew herself tighter on the toilet as she huddled. It was where she had fled after telling Nataliya they were related, and Abbie had followed, hot on her heels. After a few minutes, Alex relaxed her legs, dropping them, her hands folded in her lap as she stared blankly. She felt both everything and nothing all at once. Mostly, she felt afraid, afraid of both rejection and acceptance.

"There you go," Abbie murmured. "What's going on inside that head of yours?"

"What if I'm a disappointment?" Alex whispered. "I'm not Sofiya. I'm not the child that was lost. I'm not even Rivka. Not anymore. I mean, I was those people once, but I lost them. How am I supposed to be them?"

"You don't, Alex," Abbie answered. "You be yourself. Whoever and whatever that is."

"I don't know who I am," Alex answered, her voice soft. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, fighting the overwhelming sense of drowning. Everything seemed to be coming together too quickly for her, things were happening inside of her head before she even had the time to identify what they were, let alone process them. But, at the core of everything, that one statement rung out. She had no idea who she was, and the level of hopelessness that came with was akin to being thrown into the middle of the deepest, coldest sea. She was drowning.

The bathroom door opened softly, and Alex watched as Abbie leaned back to check on who it was. Alex already knew. She knew the sound of those footsteps like she knew the sound of air through her own lungs. "Olivia," she whispered softly.

"Hey," the detective murmured. Abbie stood, moving away as Olivia traded her places, kneeling beside the blonde. Alex had told Abbie about her developing emotional response to Olivia, confessing to her friend about their sexual relationship, especially once it had become clear that Olivia would be spending more time at Alex's apartment than her own.

"I'm sorry," Alex whispered.

"What for, baby?" Olivia murmured. "You've done nothing wrong."

"I'm a disappointment."

Olivia pulled Alex's hair back from her face, pushing it to all fall over her opposite shoulder. "You're anything but," Olivia whispered. "You have this amazing soul, Alex. You put your heart into everything I have ever seen you do. You're passionate, intelligent, driven. Alex, there is nothing about you that someone wouldn't be proud to know and even more proud to be related to."

"Thank you, Liv," Alex whispered, pressing her face into the detective's hand. "You always seem to know what to say."

Olivia pressed her fingers against Alex's lips, pressing her own lips against her fingers. Alex pulled Olivia's hand from between them, kissing the detective softly. "Thank you for being my rock through all of this." Alex wrapped her arms around Olivia.

"I couldn't imagine being anything else for anyone else," Olivia chuckled softly. "Are you ready to talk to Nataliya?"

Alex nodded, standing with some help from the detective, her legs stiff from being coiled so tightly. Abbie quietly handed her a damp paper towel. "Thanks," Alex whispered, taking the cloth and wiping her tear stained face.

She led the way back to her office, her stomach still in knots. Nataliya was sitting on the couch, Helen beside her, talking softly about tourist attractions in New York. As Alex pushed the door open, Nat looked up at her with a soft, hesitant smile, and Alex realized that the woman on the couch had to be just as terrified of rejection as Alex was.

Quietly, Helen stood, and Alex sat down in her place. The other women in the office stepped out giving the two women privacy. "Hi," she said, rolling her lips through her teeth. "I'm sorry I took off."

"Sorry I started crying," Nataliya said. "I never thought – I always thought you would be dead."

"I almost was," Alex answered, picking at the skin on the sides of her nails. "The men who took me, they would have eventually killed me except for the fact that the police found me. It was lucky. I was lucky."

"I am sorry I did not protect you," Nataliya said. "Olivia said you forgot."

Alex nodded. "Um, I was beaten so badly I forgot everything. I think, I think meeting you brought some of it back." She swallowed, her chest tightening.

"Sorry," Nat said, hanging her head.

Quickly, the attorney shook her head, switching to the Russian that was more natural to the woman she was talking to. " _No, Taliya. No. I am so grateful. It hurts. I have not had nightmares in years, and I am having them almost every night now. But, I am so glad. I know where I come from. And, watching you do everything in your power to find your sister – me, find me – I know I am wanted where I come from._ "

Nat smiled. " _More than anything._ " She reached over and touched her fingers to Alex's cheek. " _You are so beautiful._ " She pressed her lips together before she smiled again. " _Are you mad at me?_ "

"No," Alex answered, shaking her head, switching back to English as her emotional response made thinking in other languages more difficult. "Nat, why would I be mad at you?"

"You never would have questioned it. You would have assumed your birth parents did not want you. You would not hurt."

Alex pushed the tears away from the other woman's cheeks. "But, I wouldn't have ever known, and, Nat, that is pain. It's a different kind of pain. I had grown accustomed to that pain. There's this new pain, yes. But, the old pain, it's going away. The new pain will, too."

Nataliya nodded. " _I always knew I would be grateful to find you. I never thought I would feel so elated._ " The dark haired woman smiled. " _It's so – I knew you before I knew you were my sister. I wondered why we got along so well._ "

Beaming, Alex wrapped her arm around Nataliya's shoulder, resting her head against the woman. Nataliya laughed, returning the awkward hug. For several minutes, the two women just laughed, the laughter devolving into tears, a sort of catharsis.

When those finally subsided, they uncurled from each other, Alex bit her lip, chewing at the dry skin. "Nat, um, when, when it's okay with you, can I ask – can I ask you some questions?"

"What do you want to know?" she asked.

Alex smoothed her skirt over her thighs. "Uh, when's, when were we born? I've never known."

Nataliya's brow pinched. "In May, uh, -" She muttered English numbers under her breath, searching for the right one. "Nine. May nine. We are twenty nine this year."

Chuckling, Alex shook her head. "I just got nine months younger," she murmured, shaking her head. "What's your favourite colour?"

Nataliya smiled. "Orange," she answered. "Like the sunrise. What is yours?"

For hours, the two women talked, catching up over twenty three years of missed interaction. The next thing Alex knew, it was dark outside, but it was the knock on her office door that made her aware of the time. "Oh," Alex murmured, staring at the clock. "I'm so sorry."

"For what?" Nataliya asked, shaking her head. "This is more than I ever hoped."

Standing Alex opened the door, smiling as she saw Olivia on the other side of the heavy wood slab, two bags of take out in her hands and a tray of drinks. "When you didn't come home, I figured you two got lost in conversation."

Nataliya's brow furrowed. "You two, you live together?" she asked.

Flushing, Alex stepped back. "Olivia's been helping me cope. I haven't wanted to be alone for a while, and then, the assault I told you about -" She switched to Russian. " _The men on the pier who pushed me down. The ones I thought were going to -_ "

Nataliya nodded. "So, you do not live together?"

"For now, we do," Alex said. "Until I can cope."

"Oh," Nat said. She bit her lip as she toyed with the sleeve of her shirt. "Um, are you gay?"

Alex froze, her stomach constricting again. Slowly, she focused on controlling her movements as she placed the bag she had taken from Olivia on her desk. She could see the detective's eyes flickering between the two of them. Licking her lips, Alex turned to Nataliya. Despite the fact that her adoptive parents had apparently long suspected her sexual preference, she had never come out formally to anyone. Her relationship with Olivia had blossomed. There had been no conversation about sexuality. It had just happened, and both women had let their relationship take the lead after fighting it to no success. The two of them had never actually had the conversation about their independent sexualities, though Alex did know Olivia was bisexual.

When Alex was able to catch her breath, she licked her lips. "I am," she answered. Her eyes darted to Olivia. "Olivia and I – we are dating." Every muscle in her body felt tense. Throughout her high school and college years, she had dated men, but it had never been right, and she had known it for so long. She was more concerned about her public appearance, especially with the political pull her adoptive family boasted.

"Oh," Nataliya said, shuffling her feet. She tugged at her shirt sleeve again. "I really have to go." She stood and bolted for the door, Olivia stepping out of her way.

"Wait," Alex said, running after the woman. "Nat?"

"I am so sorry," Nat said as she turned at the stairs. "I have to go."


	26. Chapter 26

Ch 26.

 _There was nothing warm about heart ache. There was no escape from the memories in her own head.  
_

April 4, 2001

Olivia

"You're still awake?" Olivia asked as she entered the bedroom, Alex curled up on top of the bed, still in her office clothes, staring in the direction of the closet. Olivia knew, though, that Alex was not seeing anything. She was wherever she went when reality was too much. "Baby?"

Alex did not move, even as Olivia kicked her shoes off and crawled over the bed to the woman. Quietly, Olivia wrapped her arms around the prosecutor, pressing a soft kiss into the back of her neck. "Alex, what's going on? It's almost one in the morning, sweetie. You need sleep."

Rolling over, Alex buried her face into Olivia's chest. "I knew something bad would happen," she whispered. "I tried calling."

"Nataliya?" Olivia murmured. "Honey, give her some time. I'm sure she'll come around."

Alex shook her head. "I don't know. Homosexuality is so shameful in Ukraine, especially in religious communities. Even with Kiev being so modern, and what about our parents? What if they hate gays? What if they would consider me not their daughter? Can you disown someone you don't even know?"

"Baby, if they'll deny you because of sapphic reasons, you're already a better person than they are." Olivia stroked Alex's arm gently until she could feel the tension relax in her. "There. Hey, I'm not going anywhere. Besides, I don't mind that you're gay. In fact, I rather prefer it."

With a soft smile, Alex pressed her lips against Olivia's. "Thank you, Livvy."

"Hang on, okay?" Olivia whispered, standing and grabbing the attorney's pajamas.

"Liv?" Alex called. "Hey, bring those back."

"Wait," Olivia said, turning and laughing. "I promise. It'll be okay."

She tossed Alex's pajamas in the dryer, sitting on the unit for a couple of minutes, waiting for the heat to warm the clothes. When the dryer sounded, Olivia pulled the clothing from the tumbler and darted back into the bedroom, dropping the night shirt and shorts on the bed.

Alex sat up, picking up the pajamas. "Awh, Liv," she mused, unfolding herself from the bed and stripping down. She pulled the warm clothes on and hugged herself. She cuddled back into the bed, patting Olivia's side of the bed. "Come cuddle, baby."

Happily, Olivia crawled into the bed beside the woman who had quickly become her lover, lying beside her as she curled an arm around her.

They slept like that for a few hours until the ringing of Olivia's cell phone roused both of the from their slumber. "Benson," Olivia murmured.

Alex's phone started ringing shortly thereafter, and the detective watched as the attorney, not accustomed to being woken in the dead of night by her phone, reached over, patting the bed stand.

"Yea, Cap, I'll be right in," Olivia said, leaning over Alex and plucking her phone from the stand, pressing it firmly into the attorney's hand.

"Thanks," Alex mumbled. "Cabot."

Olivia was already pulling on her clothes, a pair of slacks and a button down laid out on the bed already for Alex by the time the attorney hung up the phone, clearly more awake as she started barking at the unfortunate detective who called her to not touch anything until she had been able to better assess the situation.

"You take such good care of me," Alex mused, stealing a brief kiss before hurriedly dressing. "Do you have the take home?" She was referring to the maroon cruiser that she and Elliot shared. Most of the time, it was left at the police station, Elliot preferring his own car and Olivia preferring the subway system as a method of transport. But, on nights when she was on call, Olivia would check the car out and take it home with her. Other nights, special needs nights, she would do the same. And, she had been doing so when she had initially been responding to Alex's emotional crises throughout the course of the night and she had to work late or work early.

Olivia shook her head. "I walked. I figure since I'm here almost all of the time now, I don't have to hang on to it to rush over in an emergency."

Alex smiled. "I'm okay with that," she mumbled. "Come on." She grabbed her car keys off the table by the door and walked out of the apartment, taking care to lock the door behind the two of them. Olivia watched as she double checked that the door was locked. She figured Alex had always been a cautious person, but Olivia had watched as she began to check and double check the security of everything over the past month. She had been processing a lot, and Olivia could not help but wonder if she was worried about being taken, again.

"Uh, you wanna show up to a homicide in the same car?" Olivia asked.

"Why not? It's possible that I stopped and picked you up," Alex argued. "Besides, do you really think they'll care?"

"They're taking bets," Olivia advised. Alex's brow raised. "On how long it will take us to date."

Pursing her lips, Alex frowned. "I didn't know they knew you were interested in women," she said.

Olivia shook her head. "I've never confirmed anything," she said. "Anyway, they all know Cassidy has a thing for me." The detective offered a sly smile.

Alex just laughed. "Then, give them one more thing to talk about," she said. Holding out her keys, she added, "Last one to the car drives." She took off running down the hall, Olivia hot on her heels, enjoying the spontaneous playfulness from the prosecutor. As Alex ripped open the door to the stairwell, clattering down it with all of the grace of someone who clearly never ran a day in their lives, Olivia could not help but laugh.

"Whatever, detective," Alex called back. "It's going to really give them something to talk about if you're driving my car."

For a heartbeat, Olivia considered that fact. At the bottom of the stairs into the parking garage, Olivia sped up, catching Alex around the waist mere feet from the car, spinning her around and backing into the vehicle, Alex squirming in her arms to touch the car first. "I win," Olivia teased, turning the blonde in her arms and kissing her softly. "I guess you have to drive."

Alex hummed her agreement. "This time, detective." She laughed, unlocking the car doors and sliding in.

Olivia buckled herself in, her hand sliding over Alex's as she switched gears. "I still can't believe you drive a manual," she mused.

Alex smiled. "A fine taste in cars comes with an appropriate ability to drive them if done properly," she mused.

"I knew you were hot, but damn," Olivia mumbled before her thoughts turned to the scene they were heading towards. From what the captain had said, it looked like a domestic violence homicide. The wife of a wealthy finance director had been found dead by the dog walker early that morning, tied to a chair with a ball gag in her mouth, gashes covering her body. Child homicides disturbed her the most, but domestic violence scenes rang up a close second. It was all too common in the city – anywhere, really. So many women died at the hands of their abusers every year.

"What are you thinking?" she finally asked an equally silent, stoic-faced Alex.

"Elliot said it's Claudia Sampson," she said, pressing her lips tightly together. "That means the husband is Adam Sampson. He's wealthy enough to buy the lawyer who can find a hole in your case, Liv. Make this airtight."

"Don't we always?" Olivia quipped, but she felt her stomach drop. It was never a good warning to get so early in the investigation.

Alex sighed, shaking her head. "I mean it, Liv. There's the kind of investigation where I'm here because I can rescue the little mistakes. And, then, there's the kind of investigation where even the hint of oversight will get it dismissed. There's a reason I want to oversee tonight."

Solemnly, Olivia nodded her head. "Whoever hurt her, Alex, we won't let him walk. I promise."

Olivia could see the tightness in Alex's facial muscles as she pulled her car up behind one of the police cars. As she got out, her badge already in her hands. The officer at the tape lifted it, and both women slipped under.

"Liv, Cabot, glad to have you on board with this," the captain said, ushering both women towards the home. "Alex, if you want to wait outside -"

"I'm alright, Captain," she said, already pulling on the little paper booties being handed out at the door by another officer. "I can stomach this. I have to. Husband is the prime?"

"Yea," Don said, following her in. "He took off this afternoon on a prescheduled flight to Paris to see their son. No idea if he saw the vic today, but it's pretty coincidental timing."

"No kidding," Alex mumbled. "Everything on this, Don, I mean everything has to be by the books. This man is from one of the wealthiest families in America. If there's an attorney that I don't stand a chance against, he can afford him."

"Sounds like you've already met the lawyer?" Don asked.

Alex nodded. "If you arrest him, he's bringing in Ron Larsen, I can almost guarantee it. That means we'll be constrained by speedy, and you can bet an expert of his will go over every scrap of evidence and every syllable in every report."

"Absolutely," Don agreed. "Up the stairs and to the left."

Alex and Olivia followed Don's instructions, finding themselves staring at a crime scene. The downstairs had smelled faintly of rust, common with blood, but the upstairs smelled of something much more stomach churning. As Olivia looked into the room, she felt the colour drain from her face. Quickly, she shook her head. "Alex, if you -"

"Hamburger," Alex whispered. "It smells like raw hamburger meat."

Olivia swallowed, her stomach twisting. She immediately regretted the choice in breathing. "Yea," she murmured. "It's pretty – well, it's bad, Lex. If you don't want -"

"I'll be okay," she whispered, stepping forward and bypassing Olivia as she went to the room. Inside the door, she froze, and Olivia watched her muscles tense.

Quietly, with every bit of respect for the dead, Olivia stepped into the room as well. It was a study, and in a chair pushed into the corner, a woman sat, but she was very much not alive. Her head was drooped, but Olivia could see that her mouth had been stuffed with a ball gag tied around her head. She was naked, her skin flayed from her body along her arms and legs. One deep wound to the neck was enough to tell the detective what had likely been the killing blow. Claudia's stomach had been meticulously avoided making Olivia think that the rage she saw on the scene was very much controlled rage. Nevertheless, blood pooled across the body and soaked into the floor, almost coming to their feet in a sticky, squelchy mess. She did not envy the technicians who would have to process this crime scene.

"It's not Adam," Alex whispered, turning and leaving the room. She walked down stairs, barely stripping her booties from her shoes before she headed back to her car, flopping into the driver's seat, Olivia right behind her the entire time. Alex turned the air conditioning on full blast.

"Do you know the MO?" the detective asked, touching Alex's hand gently, but jumping herself as Alex violently flinched, screaming before clenching the steering wheel and staring mutely forward.


	27. Chapter 27

Ch 27.

 _The past had a funny way of resurfacing in the present._

Alexandra

April 4, 2001

She sat, her hands shaking in her lap, in the warm witness interview room as Olivia and Elliot watched her carefully. From the moment she had walked in on the crime scene, she had been fighting the difference between a memory and the present, but they had looked so similar.

"Alex, hey," Olivia said. "Hey, focus on me, okay? Do you know where you are?"

With glazed eyes, Alex looked to both detectives. "I – Ivan," she whispered. "Daddy says when girls are bad, Ivan takes care of them." She shuddered involuntarily, lurching her her seat before doubling over, her hand a fist at her stomach. "Ivan said I was bad, but Daddy just asked him to teach me a lesson. He said I didn't need to die."

Leaning over, Alex vomited into the trash can she had been given. She had started vomiting at the crime scene but had yet to stop except for short periods of time. All that was coming up any more was bile.

"Stay with her, El. I'll be right back." Olivia stood up, leaving Alex alone with the male detective.

"Daddy?" Alex asked, tipping her head as she looked towards Elliot, not at him but beyond him.

"What's your name?" Elliot asked, his brow knotted as he watched the prosecutor fumble with her fingers as if she was holding on to something.

"Sofi," Alex answered with a lopsided, distant smile.

"Sofi," Elliot said.

Alex's smiled faded, and she sat up straighter, eyes wide in horror. "Rivka," she stammered. "Please no call Ivan, Daddy. Not mean it. I remember." Her voice became increasingly childlike, a thick accent slipping in as her tongue forgot how to form words foreign to her mental state in that moment, as she huddled herself small before dropping out of the chair and crawling backwards to the corner of the room.

Alex squeezed her eyes shut, her hands up over her head as she begged for forgiveness in Russian.

"Hey," Olivia said from somewhere over her, and Alex felt a warm hand on her shoulder.

With a scream, Alex pulled tighter into the wall, her whole body shaking violently. "I sorry," she babbled, her voice still young, her mind regressing. "I sorry. Speak English. I sorry. Please no call Ivan, Miss Claudia, please. I be good. Promise." She scratched at her neck and arms until someone pulled her hands away from her body. Unable to control herself, terrified out of her mind, Alex twisted and kicked and screamed. Even as she felt her head crack against the floor, she fought against an attacker who was not really there. She could no longer see or hear Elliot or Olivia. Everything was pitch black and smelled of iron and rust. Her body ached. Her mind swam.

Eventually, she wore herself out, and she stopped fighting, gradually becoming aware of the hands on her wrists and weight on her legs as she lay supine on the carpet of the police station, three detectives pinning her down. She could taste blood in her mouth, and she focused on that as she became aware of the sounds of her own breathing. Others around her were breathing, too, panting.

"Alex, can you hear me?" Olivia's voice was soft, but distant. "Cabot, you there?"

Carefully, Alex opened her eyes. "Liv?" she mumbled, her throat sore. She could taste blood throughout her mouth, as though she had bitten her tongue. Gingerly, she tested every inch of her mouth, trying to find the raw skin. There was a small hole she had managed to chew into her cheek as well as a piece missing from the inside of her lower lip.

"Hey," Olivia said. "There's my favourite lawyer." She smiled, and Alex repeated the gesture. "We're going to let you up, okay? Can you tell me what happened?"

The detectives released her, and Alex sat up, staring around her. "How did we get here?" she asked. Olivia offered her a box of tissues, and Alex immediately realized blood was trickling from her lip. Her entire body ached as if she had been running a marathon, but she knew that was not the case. In truth, Alex barely remembered fighting. Still, the lingering feeling of overwhelming fear ate at her, and she found herself concerned that whatever it was would spike again, and she would have to fight again. Fortunately, the adrenaline just did not seem to be enough to pump through her body, and the result had left her feeling exhausted in every part of her body.

Elliot frowned. "What's the last thing you remember?" He sounded worried and fatherly, and Alex slowly turned to him, seeing the retired Marine in a different light. For several seconds, her eyes scanned his face and body while his eyes, she noticed, remained firmly on her. There was no silent judgment, though, just the sense that he was watching her, ready to protect her from herself should she need it again.

Alex furrowed her brow as she concentrated, actively working to remember the night's activities, especially since she did not want to say the first thing that had come to her mind – Olivia giving her warm pajamas to sleep in. After a few seconds, a series of images flooded her mind. Biting her lip, she rocked softly. "Claudia," she whispered. "Claudia's dead."

"Do you know Claudia Sampson?" Olivia asked her voice gentle. Alex nodded, her lips pressed tightly together. "How?"

Very quietly, such that the detectives could barely hear her, she whispered, "She taught me English when I was brought here. If we used our native languages, she would pull our hair and slap us. Sometimes, if we needed too much punishment, she would call Ivan."

Olivia nodded, glancing furtively at Elliot. Alex saw the male detective nod his head, and she could sense the tension in the room rise. "Alex, who's Ivan?"

Alex jumped. She could not help it. "He was the man with the cane," she finally answered. "He would come to the house every day. If the man who made us call him Daddy said we were bad, he would take us to a room and beat us. It was my job to clean that room if he broke skin." Alex swallowed, finding the action very painful.

"The way Claudia was killed, you've seen that before?" Don asked, but Alex knew he already knew the answer. They might not have known the specifics, and that was, indeed, what they were looking for, but they certainly knew that it was not just seeing her previous tormentor dead that had triggered the break that she had just experienced. The method of execution was, unfortunately, very familiar to the attorney.

Again, Alex nodded. Licking her lips, she tucked herself back against the wall, her arms wrapped around herself. She wished that she could stop conjuring up the images in her head, the memories that had been so long suppressed. She hated that she had to remember. "One of the older girls tried to run away. They found her and brought her back. Daddy was so mad he called Ivan in the middle of the night. Ivan told Daddy she needed to be made an example of, so they woke everyone else up and made them go to the punishment room. They tied the girl to the chair, and Daddy put a ball gag in her mouth so the neighbors wouldn't hear her scream. It was part of everyone's punishment."

Alex quivered, and Olivia placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. A large part of Alex wanted to push the hand away from her, to not be touched. But, it seemed, an equally large part of her wanted to be held indefinitely. "Ibn and I had to kneel by the chair with buckets," she whispered. "It wasn't the last time." She paused, chewing at her lower lip. "I'm sorry."

For several seconds, the entire room was quiet. It was one thing to work these types of cases, but Alex was finding out the hard way that it was another thing to be one of these types of cases. Finally, in the silence, Olivia pulled her closer, and Alex succumbed to the warmth of the hug, her fingers closing around Olivia's jacket.

She did not cry. She was too tired to cry. Instead, she clung to the other woman's clothes and stared ahead, over her shoulder, no longer seeing the walls and doors and desks of the unit beyond where she had been restrained, a danger to herself. All she saw was black, her world physically numb except for the feel of polyester beneath her fingers.

After a while, she did not know how long, Olivia sat back, taking Alex's hands in her own. "Alex, look at me, listen to me," she murmured, her voice quiet. "No matter what happened to you back then, what you saw or what you were made to do, I want you to know that it is not your fault. You were a child, and you had no control over the situation. What those people did to you is deplorable, but you did the most important thing – you survived."

Olivia hooked her finger under Alex's chin, and met her eyes. Alex tried to hold them but wound up darting her gaze around, unable to look the woman in the eyes for long. She felt somehow less human than before, less deserving of the obvious affection from the detective, and less deserving of the support from every individual in that room at that time.

"We're here for you, Alex," Olivia said. "No matter what, you've got us."

Slowly, Alex nodded. "I know," she finally muttered. "Thank you for being the glue that holds me together." She shook her head, pulling her hands free from the detective. "I can't help your investigation out any, especially not since you might need me to testify to what I saw Ivan do before if you manage to catch him. Hell, if you can manage to locate any of the victims I did see – but, I don't know their names, just that it was all between twenty one and twenty three years ago. I'm surprised he can still do it." She shrugged. "Maybe it's not him. Maybe he trained someone else. But, then, he was young twenty years ago." She shook her head.

Standing, Alex brushed her clothes off. "I'll let Liz know you need a different prosecutor to help you out on this one. In the mean time, I'm going for a walk. I'll be okay. I just need space." She moved to walk out, Don opening the door for her. "I didn't hurt anyone?"

"You?" Munch asked. "You can punch better than I thought you could, but you still couldn't hurt a fly, Cabot."

Alex offered a faint smile. "I'm really sorry." She turned and walked out feeling as though she were floating but weighted down all at the same time. Her fingers tingled, and a low headache throbbed behind her eyes and sinuses that made it feel like she was on some kind of centrifugal machine, just dizzy and surreal. But, then, all of this was so surreal. For so long, she had been the abandoned child of a Russian prostitute, a strange beginning but otherwise normal childhood.

But, as the memories came flooding back to her, she was learning that her life was anything but normal.


	28. Chapter 28

Ch 28.

 _In the chaos that surrounded her, she wanted to turn to inner peace, but, she was learning, there was very little inner peace to turn to._

Nataliya

April 17, 2001

As she sat on the bench inside the cathedral, Nataliya wondered at her life. Really, the past two weeks had been the most overwhelming in recent years, despite the sexual abuse she had experienced at the hands of her so-called husband. Alex and Abbie had both managed to get the marriage annulled though, and Alex had established, legally, that there had been no privilege during the time Nataliya had thought she had been married. The Ukrainian women knew that such things were exceedingly beneficial to the case. Despite not changing what had happened to her, Nataliya could freely discuss things that might mean another woman did not have to experience what she had.

That, in itself, was a relief.

More than anything, though, Nataliya had been processing the simple fact that her sister, the one she had spent years searching for and the search which exposed her to trafficking in the first place, was alive. That very meager fact was enough to make all of the suffering she had endured worth it. That she had been able to talk with her sister had been more than her heart had ever hoped for.

Closing her eyes, Nat drew up an image of Alex in her mind, picturing the way she looked. She had seen her so many times, talked with her so many times, and had just never known that it had been her. There was the fierce side of the woman, the protector. Nat had seen it in court, shadowing the prosecutor after Olivia and she had suggested that Nat get a better feel for the American court system in preparation for her own trial. Nat had seen the intense passion for victims in her body language and heard it in her voice. Even when they had talked about Nataliya's own victimization, there had been this ferocity that seemed to have been ignited from deep within the woman.

But, then, there was the vulnerable side of her, the side Nat had seen only after Alex had confessed to learning the two were related, that she was Sofi. Sofiya, though, had been but a girl. Alex was a woman, and, Nat thought she had detected a bit of a need for love and affection as her walls had broken down in her office only two weeks prior. There was only so much affection a stranger-sibling could provide, but Nataliya had also seen the way Olivia had looked at her when she had brought dinner. There, she thought, was someone who could protect the vulnerable side of Alexandra.

That night, Nataliya had talked with her parents for hours, telling them about how beautiful her sister was and how kind and loving and compassionate. She had answered questions as best she could and cried a lot with her mother. Her father, as ever, was more stoic, the one to keep his two girls together. They had asked about talking to Alex, their mother already calling the woman Sasha, a local pet name for Alexandra, already prepared to dote on the missing child emotionally, already asking if Sasha would come visit or if they could go to the United States, already years ahead of where they were. Nataliya had promised to ask Alex if she was ready to meet their parents, her biological parents, but cautioned that once Alex had been rescued from trafficking and adopted, she had very loving parents. Nat worried about the conflict that she feared Alex would feel having a biological set of parents who never stopped looking for her and an adoptive set of parents who loved and doted on her as if she had been their own.

Chewing on her lower lip, Nataliya pulled the phone from her pocket that had been given to her to communicate with her world both in New York and back home. She had called Alex several times, but the attorney had not answered, and Nataliya had not understood why. She had gotten a hold of Olivia the day before who had told her that Alex was emotionally fragile at that moment. The detective had also let slip that Alex had felt rejected, that Nataliya had been the first person Alex had ever actually confirmed her sexuality with – even Olivia had not known with certainty if Alex was a lesbian or if she were bisexual or pansexual – and Nataliya had run out.

At the time, Nat had not been willing to offer an explanation, instead hanging up with the detective with the promise to call back. She spent the night awake, soul searching. It put an ache in her heart, but she knew she needed to talk to Olivia about her reaction that day. After all, she had not meant to reject her sister.

"Benson," the detective answered.

"Detective, it is Nataliya," she said, her voice hushed. "I was hoping to meet you today. I – I need to talk to you about something important. For Sasha – Alex sake."

There was a moment of hesitation in Olivia's response. "Sure," she said. "Can I buy you lunch?"

"I do not think I will be able to eat. It is hard, hard conversation to have. Just, um, you and me. Is okay?" Nataliya continued, fumbling with her English as she fought tears.

"Alright, Nat," Olivia replied, and the woman instantly knew the detective was not angry with her. It felt like a weight was drawn from her back, and she hoped that Alex would not be angry with her, either. She had not meant the offense, and she figured that her family deserved an explanation, but she had no idea how to go about it without talking with Olivia first. "Is everything alright?"

"We meet at eleven at shelter?" she asked, checking her watch. It gave her about an hour to walk back to the domestic violence shelter she called home, and that would be plenty of time.

"Eleven," Olivia agreed.

They hung up and Nat mumbled a quick prayer that her sins – many that they were – would be forgiven. Then, she left, her hands tucked in her pockets. When she had asked for pictures of their childhood and their parents for missing persons to run a composite and try to help locate her missing sister, Nataliya had asked for one additional picture to be sent to her. It was that picture which had never left her pocket upon arrival, one that she had never shared with anyone in the United States, and one that had been private outside of her own family. Even within her family, there had been such a struggle for acceptance and understanding, but it had come.

She walked up the small drive of the shelter just as Olivia was getting out of the car. "Olivia," she said, waving her hand as the detective turned around.

"What perfect timing," the woman said. "Hop in." Olivia drove them out to Battery Park where they walked for several minutes in silence, Nataliya unsure how to begin.

Finally, the foreign born woman pulled the photograph out of her pocket, handing it to the detective. "That is Anya," she said, pointing to the woman in the picture, a shaggy black dog in her arms. It was her favourite picture of the woman, her smile so genuine that it reached her eyes. "She was murdered in 1998."

"I'm so sorry," Olivia whispered. "What happened?"

"A group of men attacked her while she was walking to my apartment. They drag her down alley and beat her with bat. They took turns raping her. When they leave, she crawl to my home for help. Anya, she – she died in hospital that night. Her jaw broken, ribs broken, bleeding from liver and kidneys, they cut her -" She gestured to her private area.

Olivia nodded her understanding. "I'm so sorry, Nataliya."

"Police in Ukraine they, um, did not, uh, what is word? Search?"

"They didn't investigate the murder?" Olivia questioned.

Nat nodded. "They did until found out why she came to my house." Nataliya stopped walking, her lips pressed together, tongue rubbing nervously over the backs of her teeth. "Is lot of, uh, pred – prejudice in Ukraine around homosexuality. Anya and I -" She worked her mouth as she struggled not only for English words but also for words in general. "I am not so different from you and Alex."

Olivia's mouth opened in understanding, and Nataliya could see in the detective's eyes that she followed her perfectly. "Oh, Nataliya," she breathed. "She was killed because she was gay, wasn't she?"

Again, Nat nodded. "We, she – I did not know she was coming over." She pushed her tears away with the back of her hand. "She was – I don't know the word. She had ring in pocket."

"She was going to propose?" Olivia asked. Nat nodded. "What happened to the ring?"

"When men take me, they take ring," the woman said, hanging her head. "It was all I had of her. No one outside my family know I am gay. Was very hard for Father to accept. He afraid people attack me like Anya. I am afraid for Alex. Every day, we hear about attack or something bad. Children are homeless or locked up because of it."

Olivia shook her head. "I'm so sorry this happened to you. America – we're not so tolerant, either. We're getting better, though. And, Nat, I won't let anyone hurt Alex, not any more. I won't let anyone hurt you, either." She pressed her hand on Nataliya's arm, gently squeezing. "You will find support in Alex, Nat, if you want to tell her."

Hugging herself, Nat nodded. "I want to – I did not mean to be offensive. Olivia, I do not reject her. She is my sister. I have loved her my whole life. Nothing can change that."

"I think Alex would like to hear about Anya, Nat. You should tell her your story. She'll understand, and I think having your sister to support you will do a lot of good for you. It sounds like her presence in your life is really meaningful. And, I can tell you right now, she wants your approval, too. When we found out you two were sisters, she didn't want to tell you because she was afraid that she wouldn't be good enough to be your sister."

Nat felt her eyes go wide. "She thought she was not good enough?" she repeated. Licking her lips, Nataliya shook her head. "Can you take me to her? I want to talk to her. Tell her she is good enough. More than good enough. She is amazing. I am so proud to know her, before I knew she was sister. And, now, I brag about her to our parents."

Nataliya smiled. "In office, when you tell me she is my sister, my heart burst. I am so happy it hurts. I know she is alive, and I feel joy. I see she is good human being, and – and I want to be that, too."

Olivia's smile reached her eyes, and Nataliya knew, without a trace of doubt that she had conveyed her point. "You should definitely tell her that," Olivia confided. "Alex is very much questioning her humanity these days." Olivia jerked her head in the direction of the car, her hands tucked in her pockets.

Quickly, Nataliya caught up, looping her arm through one of the detective's. "You know, I not know you very long, but I see in your eyes. You love Alex." She nodded as if this were not up for discussion. "One day, I hope you become sister to me, too."

Flushing deep red, Olivia looked away for a moment. "Don't tell her that," she whispered.

Nataliya furrowed her brow as she looked at the detective, confused by her meaning. Finally, she shook her head. "I do not understand," she said. "She love you, too."

Olivia froze, stopping midstep, and Nataliya looked back. The detective seemed to be speaking without sound as she struggled to regain her composure. And, then, it dawned on Nat. "She does not tell you?" She narrowed her eyes, watching the detective. "You tell her," she demanded, her lips pinching.

"Soon," Olivia promised, and Nataliya could see a glisten in her eyes. It was well concealed, the moisture disappearing in the next blink, but she had seen it.

"Before it too late," Nataliya whispered, her fingers tracing the picture of Anya she still held in her hand.


	29. Chapter 29

Ch 29.

 _She remembered the first time she had escaped to the kitchen, to the warmth of the stove and the smiles and joy in people's faces as she served them tiny, homemade croissants, a little too crispy on the outside. Her skills had only improved from there, and after a time, it came to make her happy, too._

Alexandra

April 17, 2001

Opening the door at the sound of a key in the lock, Alex stepped aside to allow both Olivia and Nataliya to enter the apartment. She felt kind of silly, still in her pajamas, her hair up in a sloppy bun. Dark circles had formed under her eyes, the Trazadone no longer working its magic on such a low dose but Alex too unwilling to ask either her doctor or her mother for a higher dose. She hated being on medication to begin with.

"Hi," Alex whispered, gesturing for Nataliya to enter and take a seat. "Can I get you anything?"

Shaking her head, Nat stood by the couch, seemingly unsure of herself as she fiddled with her fingers. Alex pursed her lips. She had no idea what might be bothering the woman, and she was a little uncertain herself about Olivia bringing her sister to her home, especially after she had fled her office. While the District Attorney officially had no further interest in Nataliya or Alexandra's human trafficking cases, both highly distinct cases, Alex had not been so sure she wanted to have her sister over – despite their blood relation, the two women were still strangers.

In the silence, Olivia wrapped her arms around Alex's waist, gently pressing a kiss into the blonde's neck. "You know," she murmured. "You two have some of the same habits when you're nervous." She kissed Alex's cheek. "Nataliya and I talked, Alex, and I think you should hear her story."

Nataliya nodded, thrusting a photograph towards Alex, tears already welling up in her eyes. Carefully, Alex took the photograph. It was blurry where it had been creased, and she could tell from looking at it that Nataliya opened and closed it a lot. From the wear, she could only assume that the photo meant a lot to the other woman. " _Her name was Anya,_ " Nataliya explained in their native Russian. " _She bought me a ring._ "

Alex's brow knit in confusion, but as Nataliya's story unfolded, she began to understand. Curled on the couch in the safety of her lover's arms, she imagined the unspeakable pain that Nat had to feel. Mere months before her departure to America, she had lost the woman she would likely have married. And, then, on her arrival to the States, she was dehumanized and forced into an abusive marriage. As Nat talked, her emotions bubbling out, Alex moved closer on the couch to her, eventually wrapping her arms around the woman, hugging her close.

"I can't even imagine what you're going through, Nat," Alex whispered. " _I wish I could fix the pain._ "

She held on to the Ukrainian for a few minutes longer, until the shivering stopped. "Thank you for telling me," Alex said. "It takes a lot of courage to talk to someone about something so personal."

"Thank you to listen," Nataliya whispered. "I am sorry I offended. I do not mean it. You are my sister. That is all I need to know. And, you and Olivia are so beautiful together."

Flushing, Alex smiled. "She's good to me," Alex agreed. "I just hope she wants to stick around for a while and keep putting up with me."

Leaning forward and reclaiming Alex as her own, Olivia nuzzled her face into Alex's neck. "What can I say? I like you a lot," she teased, nipping at Alex's skin until the blonde attorney laughed, pushing her playfully away.

"Nat, stay for lunch? I have been craving tacos."

"Tacos?" Nataliya repeated, her brow raised.

"Oh," Alex mused, laughing softly. "It's the same in Russian. Nothing fancy. It's not even really an English word."

"Oh," Nataliya said, smile lighting her face. "I love taco."

"You'll like her cooking even better," Olivia mused. "I swear, I've been eating better the past two months than I ever have in my life."

"Can I help?" Nataliya asked with a soft smile. "Cooking is in our blood."

"Really?" Alex asked.

Nataliya nodded. "Mother was chef. Owned Verev, good, traditional restaurant. Sold it in 1995, I think. Her hands too shaky." Nataliya mimicked shaking hands, and Alex nodded the confirmation that she had used the appropriate word. "Father is still banker. Mother not work."

Alex nodded, licking her lips. "What are their names?" she asked, startled by the realization that she had not asked.

"Father is Sergei. Mother is Viktoriya. I call them, tell them about you, how beautiful you are and how kind you are to people who hurt. They say they very proud of you, Alex. Father, he says he stops drinking because no more pain. Mother, she cry still, but she say because she is so happy. They ask every day to talk to you. Mother, she call you Sasha. It like Alex for Alexandra, but in Ukraine, it is Sasha."

"It's a pet name," Alex replied, her voice soft.

Nataliya shook her head. "You not pet, Alex."

Alex laughed. "No, not like that," she replied. "Like, um, _klichka._ "

"Oh. Pet name." Nataliya smiled. "I am sorry. Two years, and my English terrible."

Alex shook her head vehemently. "No, your English is wonderful. You didn't study it in school?"

Nat shook her head. "Russian, Ukrainian, and German. Learn some Polish, but only one year. School say choose German or Polish. I choose German."

"We speak the same languages," she mused.

"Hm, guess you two aren't as different as you like to think," Olivia mused from across the kitchen counter.

Alex offered a submissive smile before opening the fridge door and pulling out chicken and vegetables. "We have a taco press in the cabinet by the dishwasher," she said, but Nataliya was looking at Olivia, her face hard, as if she were trying to silently demand something of the detective. "What?"

"Nothing," Olivia said, shaking her head at the other woman, mouthing 'no.'

Alex looked between the two, confused for a moment before shaking her head and getting the press herself. "Are you okay with homemade taco shells?" she asked the room in general.

"What can I do to help?" Olivia asked.

"Go away," Nat replied, shooing Olivia to the corner of the kitchen.

The detective laughed. "Alright. Come on Kibbles, let's go for a walk." Olivia grabbed the leash from the dining room table, and, at the sound of the clattering of the hook, the malinois came bounding out of the bedroom, straight to the detective, sitting at her feet, tail wagging feverishly as she waited for Olivia to clip the lead to her collar.

Alex laughed as she watched the standard battle to determine who was going to walk whom. Olivia won out in the end, threatening to not give Kibbles a cookie at the end of their walk if she did not behave.

"She is good dog," Nataliya said as Olivia closed the door behind them.

"Yes," Alex said, nodding her head. "Thank you, by the way, for saving her. She's a perfect fit here."

Nataliya smiled. "I think she save herself. She pick you through closed door." Alex smiled, focusing on the masa harina dough she was making for the tacos. She had learned over the years that the right consistency was actually important, and it gave her an excuse to distance herself.

"Do you love her?" Nataliya asked.

"Who? Kibs? Yea, she's a great dog. I swore I would never get any pets, but she's changed my mind about having a dog around. I just feel bad when I work a lot and when Olivia works a lot, but she seems to enjoy the dog daycare down the street."

"No, not Kibbles," Nataliya said, shaking her head. "Olivia. I watch. You light up when she walk into room. You follow her with your eyes. You love her?"

"Oh," Alex mused, chewing at her lip. "I don't know. I've never been able to fall in love with anyone. I think I'm too cold and closed off for that."

"I do not think so," Nataliya replied, lopsided smile on her lips. "You are not cold. You are afraid."

Alex blinked, pausing as she covered the dough. "Afraid of what?" she asked. "Olivia won't hurt me."

Nat nodded. "Of love," she said. "You think as child you love family?"

"Well, yes," Alex said. "I don't remember much, but I remember coming home to a warm house and fresh pastries." She smiled fondly. She had no recollection of either of her biological parents in the mess of memories that had cropped up over the past several weeks. But, she had realized one day while baking that she could distinctly remember the smell of freshly made pastries as a child. She assumed that would be her home in Kiev.

"Those men take you from love, make you feel unworthy. As adult, he make me feel unworthy. I cannot imagine feeling hated as child," Nataliya replied. "You have love of adoption parents, but, I think, without knowing why, you always afraid to love them."

Alex frowned. She had been very shut off from her parents the first several years they had her. She had refused to tell them she loved them until she was in college, her first time away from the only home she could remember. For as long as she had said it, too, she realized that there had always been a twist in her belly as she spoke those words. They were true. She loved her parents, but there had always been something that had tugged at her just below the surface.

"If you love Olivia, what bad thing will happen?" Nat asked, hitting the core of Alex's unspoken fears.

Shaking her head, Alex shrugged. "I don't know," she answered.

"Then, is it not worth risk?" Nataliya asked.

Biting her lower lip, Alex considered that for a moment. She weighed the pros and cons. She had never actually opened herself to the idea of loving someone else and being loved in return. She still was very guarded when it came to her adoptive parents. So, in truth, she had no idea what it felt like to love someone unconditionally and with all of her heart because she had never done it.

Finally, though, Alex shook her head. "I'm in crisis right now," she said, her voice soft and words careful. "She can't possibly love me right now because she doesn't know me. And, if she doesn't love me back – I hurt so much right now, Nat. I don't think I can be hurt any more."

Nataliya shook her head. "Every moment is you," she said. "You are try to convince yourself, not me. Not anyone else. You. Not hesitate to love. Worst can happen now is she not love you. Best can happen is she love you. If worst, you in no worse place. If best, you in better place. You become happier."

"I suppose," Alex murmured. But, she really had no idea. They had never even sat down and discussed when they had actually started dating. They had gone from a spark of attraction to a weekend flare to pet names and nights cuddled on the couch watching movies. Alex was not actually aware of when it had switched or if it had ever even switched at all. Perhaps, they had been in it for the long haul the whole time. But, perhaps not, and she had no idea where Olivia stood on the issue.


	30. Chapter 30

_A/N: Thank you, as always, for the reads, reviews, and PMs. This little story is wrapping up, but I'm hopeful that you will all continue to bear with me patiently on other stories. Thank you for bearing with me on this story._

 _Always -  
DMAA_

Ch 30.

 _Heavy things weighed on her mind, but she was always surprised at how easily the small things seemed to push the darkness aside. Light, she realized, came from many strange places, strangest of all was the smell of the sea._

Olivia

May 5, 2001

It frustrated her, sometimes, how slowly everything moved. It had almost been a month since the murder of one of Alex's tormentors, and they were no closer to capturing the culprit – truth be told, they were no closer to discovering if, as they suspected based on Alex's description of her childhood, it really was Ivan Karkarov who had committed the murder. The Modus Operandi, or MO, seemed to match, and it would make sense if it were Ivan because the two had a prior link. Unfortunately, according to Lisa, the ADA who had taken the case, the link was Alex which meant that she would have to testify if and when they caught the bastard.

Their unit was still searching for three unknown rapists, one known rapist, and two wife-beaters from that month alone. More over, they had arrested another four criminals for crimes of varying degrees within their specialty, and they were only five days into May. Alex was processing through those cases as quickly as possible, and she and Olivia had gotten into their first fight earlier that day when Alex had let it slip that she had given a plea deal to one of the culprits.

Two stubborn, intelligent, and passionate women arguing meant that things had been said that neither one was proud of. But, it was Alex who had gone to her room, halfway to tears, stopping Olivia dead in her tracks as she had locked the door, Kibbles in the room with her. Olivia had left and returned to her own home wondering if things were moving too quickly between them, especially since they still had to tolerate each other professionally.

Eventually, her home had left her feeling too cooped up, and she had left there as well, wandering lower Manhattan with no destination in mind. Finally, she had hopped a subway and ridden the trains until she needed fresh air, surprised to find herself staring across the Hudson at Hoboken. Two cities that almost touched, and, really, at first glance, it was impossible to tell the difference.

But, it was hardly the city she was focused on. It was the water. It was dirty, like almost everything in the city, but Olivia hardly minded. There was still something inherently peaceful about the whole place. Olivia remembered Alex confessing to her, across the island, about being seven years old and wanting to throw herself into the water, to end her life. It physically hurt Olivia to imagine the prosecutor as a child, having walked through hell, having been made to hold a bucket to catch the blood of murder victims and beaten when she missed a drop.

It was there that Olivia broke down herself, her arms wrapped tightly around her, nails dug into her shoulders. She had to be strong for Alex, in front of Alex. There was no break down, no matter how much she hurt. It was rare that she cried. She could think of twice in her life, and one of them had been because a cut from the sharp end of her mother's whiskey bottle had almost punctured a lung, making breathing very painful indeed.

Once she calmed down, she called Alex, not wanting to let the anger sit between them. She had not been angry at the prosecutor despite the fact that she hated a plea. It was standard, though. Olivia had never liked when cases took a plea. It meant that somehow, somewhere, someone was getting off with a lighter sentence than was deserved. Still, she knew it was not Alex' fault. It was the fault of an over stressed and underfunded system.

"Hey, Alex, it's Liv," Olivia said as the voice mail picked up. "Baby, I just want to say I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you. I'm picking up Moon Dragon for dinner, and I would love to bring you some. It's not as good as your cooking, but – well, it'll be easy." Slowly, she hung up the phone, heading towards the Chinese take out restaurant.

A few minutes later, her phone vibrated, and she checked the missed text message. _No._

Olivia sighed. _Meet me somewhere, then? Please._

 _No._ It seemed to be the only word that Alex could text, and Olivia felt her heart sink. She did not want to go to bed mad, but it seemed that Alex had no problems doing just that.

 _Why not?_

The response was fast, and Olivia knew that she had Alex's full attention. _You'll come over. I'll melt into your pretty brown eyes. And, then, I'll want every inch of you._ Olivia felt herself flush, but she could not help but to chuckle. Alex did not want her over because she would be too forgiving if she saw the detective.

 _I'll be over in twenty._ In that, she knew they would be okay. Alex had already long forgiven the detective for her role in the argument, and that was all that Olivia cared about.

Taking the food from the restaurant, Olivia walked the few short blocks to Alex's apartment, knocking on the woman's door just shy of the twenty minutes she had promised. Slowly, Alex opened the door, stepping aside.

Without speaking, Olivia slipped her shoes off and set the bag of take out on the kitchen table. After a few seconds, she turned around, surprised to find Alex right behind her. Alex placed her hands on either side of Olivia's face, pressing their mouths together. As Alex probed, Olivia responded, opening her mouth to Alex's searching tongue.

Before she knew it, they were both in the living room, her blouse somewhere in the kitchen. Alex's shirt hung around her wrists, and Olivia had pushed her skirt up, her fingers pressed against the cloth of her underwear. Alex's mouth was busy leaving hickey trails across her breasts. Olivia moaned, wrapping her free hand in Alex's hair.

"I told you," Alex whispered. "I'd fall into those chocolate eyes of yours." She pressed her lips together. "Then, I'd want to fuck you until I've touched every goddamn inch of your perfect skin." As she spoke, Alex traced one of a handful of scars Olivia had from cuts from her own past, her thumb tracing the slightly smoother, slightly darker skin.

Olivia smiled, her fingers running through the other woman's hair. "I'm sorry I'm an idiot."

"We're both idiots," Alex said, kneeling on the couch and pulling Olivia to join her. "It's why we're so compatible." She smiled, licking her tongue slowly along Olivia's upper lip. "Forgive me?"

"Nothing to forgive, Alex. You were doing your job. I hope you can forgive me."

"I suppose I can say the same – you are a passionate woman. It is one of the reasons I -" She paused, pulling away.

Olivia pulled Alex close. "One of the reasons you, what?" she pressed, chewing at her lower lip. Alex shook her head, staring down. "It's okay, baby girl. You can tell me anything, you know that?"

Alex sat back on her heels, staring at her hands as her fingers worked as though she were trying to grasp something. Olivia recognized it as a nervous gesture, one she and her sister shared. The detective pushed Alex's hair back behind her ear, cupping her cheek before twisting her hair between her fingers. "I like the brown on you," she whispered.

"It's close to my natural colour," Alex replied. "I wanted to try it out. I've been running from who I was for so long, even before I knew what I was running from. I'm glad you like it."

Olivia pressed a kiss to Alex's cheek. "You're beautiful always," she whispered. She peppered tiny kisses along Alex's cheek and jaw. "You are who you are, Lex. No more running. Unless you're running to me."

Alex grinned. "I'll run to you any day," she said, her voice soft and shaky. Alex chewed at her lip. "I, um -" She chewed at the inside of her cheek. "I – I – I hope I am not too, um, uh – I love you, Olivia." Alex flushed a dark crimson, her head hung. The flush even reached her chest, and Olivia could swear she could see Alex's heart beating in time with the colour flush of her skin.

Carefully, Olivia traced her fingers over Alex's breasts, the pads of her fingers following the area where her skin turned white again. Then, she looped her finger under Alex's chin and lifted her face. "Look at me, Alex," she whispered. Alex's newly browned hair covered her eyes, and Olivia pushed the hair away. She could not help but get a little lost in her grey eyes, the hint of blue so perfectly natural that they were almost lavender. "I love you, too, Alexandra."

The smile on Alex's face was genuine and full, spanning not only her entire face but up into her eyes. Olivia pulled Alex to her, the two women falling into each other.

As Alex slept, Olivia traced her fingers over the woman's white, white skin. There were stretches of skin consistent with being whipped with a belt and sliced open with a knife. Alex had known, long before they had begun their sexual relationship, that she had been abused. She had the scars to prove it, even if she had no idea how she had gotten them. Denial, Olivia imagined, had to have been easier. In some ways, she wondered if it still was.

"God, Alex," she whispered, careful to not wake the exhausted woman, "you're so beautiful, baby girl. I can't believe I get to be here tonight. Of all the women in New York, why me?" Slowly, carefully, Olivia slid her hand into Alex's, the sleeping woman's fingers limp. Alex moaned softly in her sleep. Apparently, their post-argument coitus was destined to be passionate, hard, and long. Alex had passed out twice before she had tapped out for the night, the sweat glistening on her body, her eyes glazed. Even as she slept, she panted ever so softly, sleep new to her that night and still recovering.

Despite being physically exhausted herself, Olivia could not help but admire Alex's sleeping body. The scars made her more perfect. Leaning over, Olivia brushed her lips over Alex's, the attorney opening her mouth in her sleep, gasping softly.

"I love you," Olivia whispered. She smiled softly. "I love you, and goddammit, it sounds beautiful every time I say it." She smiled, unable to wipe the grin from her face. "I love you, Alexandra Cabot."

As if she knew, Alex rolled over, facing the detective, still sound asleep. One arm draped over Olivia's hip, and she pressed her face into Olivia's chest, her warm breath cascading over the detective's naked skin. Gently, Olivia slipped further under the covers as she wrapped her arm around her girlfriend's sleeping body, holding her close, feeling content, safe, and wanted for the first time in as long as she could remember.


	31. Chapter 31

**_A/N: Thank you, as always, for the reads, reviews, and PMs. This is the final chapter of this story, and I am so glad that everyone who followed this story did. I appreciate the feedback from everyone, and I definitely appreciate the honour of writing this story._**

 _ **I hope to have more up soon including working on some of the ones already posted. (If some of those disappear, please don't panic. I am hoping to rework some of the flaws in some of the stories that are in progress.)**_

 ** _Always -  
DMAA_**

Ch 31.

 _She used to wonder what kind of stories the city told, but as she looked around her, it occurred to her that the answer was all too easy. Theirs. The city told their stories, the stories of hundreds of thousands of footsteps every moment of every day, of first breaths and last, of fear and, more importantly, of hope. It was a story of dark pasts and bright futures. And, it was everything they designed it to be._

Alexandra

May 9, 2001

"You really think they'll pick up?" Alex asked as she scooted closer to her sister on the couch of her apartment. "And, you're sure they want to talk to me?"

Nataliya laughed. "Yes. They are so excited to talk to you, Sasha. They are waiting for weeks."

The phone rang again, and Alex felt her stomach drop. "What if they hate me?"

"You are daughter," Nataliya said, holding Alex's hand. There had been crying and a lot of hang ups already that morning. And, again, Alex reached forward to hang up, but Nataliya grabbed her hands, stopping her. "No. You let them answer. They love you, no matter."

Alex tried to pull her hand away, to go after the phone again, and Nataliya lay across her lap, pinning her hands down. "No nervous!" she yelled.

" _Hello?_ " the sound of a Russian woman made Alex freeze. " _Taliya, is that you?_ "

" _Hi, Mama,_ " Nataliya chirped. " _I have someone with me._ "

Alex gasped, staring at the phone, the disembodied voice of her biological mother echoing over the speaker of the phone. " _Mama?_ " Alex squeaked, quivering as Nataliya released her. She licked her lips, her mind racing and full while blank all that the same time.

" _Sasha?_ " the woman replied. " _Tali, is that Sasha?_ "

Nataliya smiled, watching Alex's face. " _Yes, Mama._ "

" _Happy birthday, my girls,_ " the woman said, tears leaping into her voice. " _Oh, my girls. And, I never thought I would hear both your voices at the same time again. Thank you. Thank you, God. Thank you, Tali. My baby girls._ " Their mother dissolved into tears.

Alex was not far behind, rocking as she struggled to control her breathing. It had been twenty three years since she had heard her mother's voice, and even with her memory being vague and absent for most of the time, there was the ache. Even when she had thought she was the child of a prostitute, she had never been able to recall her mother's voice, and she had always wanted to, even if she had not ever said anything or reached out to anyone about it. Now, hearing the woman's voice who gave her life, who raised her those first few years, it drew out all kinds of emotions. She rocked violently between overwhelmed, afraid, elated, and nervous.

Kibbles came lumbering over from the kitchen, resting her head on the couch with a soft whine as she checked on the well being of her human. Alex slid off the couch and wrapped her arms around the dog, petting her to reassure her as well as reassure herself that everything was the way it should be. There was a long history of pain. Both sisters had walked through hell. And, there was nothing quite like knowing that things were okay.

" _Mama, stop crying. You are making Sasha cry. Go get Papa. Tell him._ " Nataliya wrapped her arms around Alex. " _It is okay, sister. I told you, they want to talk to you. You are loved by your families. Your parents in America, and our parents in Ukraine. It's over. The hurt. It is over for both of us._ " She rubbed her thumb over Alex's shoulder.

"Thank you," Alex whispered, clinging to her sister.

Through tears, Alex talked to her mother for the first time in twenty three years. While their father remained largely stoic, as Nataliya had guessed that he would. Still, there was emotion in his voice, and he kept repeating how proud he was of his girls, how they had accomplished things that exceeded the normal scope of human resources.

It was nearly three hours before they hung up, Alex promising to call again in a couple of days.

"What do you think?" Nataliya asked.

"I'm so glad. Thank you for talking to them with me," Alex said with a smile. "Oh, hang on." She stood up and darted into her bedroom, pulling a small box from her closet and hustling back to the living room where she curled back up on the couch. "Now I know when our birthday really is, I – this is for you."

Nataliya took the box from Alex's outstretched hands. She bit her lower lip, chewing at it as she looked over Alex. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Happy birthday, Taliya," Alex replied, satisfied that she could still feel complete. Her world had not been bad, not as an adult. She had been raised by the Cabots in a nice home with love and opportunity. Learning everything she had recently had turned her world upside down. It had torn everything she had thought she knew apart, but in so doing, it had repaired holes she had gotten so accustomed to them being there that she had forgotten they were there. The sheer weight eased from her was what made her remember it had been there in the first place, and it was startling.

Nataliya smiled, pulling the lid from the box, gasping as she blinked back tears. "Alex," she whispered, pulling the airplane ticket from the box. "To Ukraine?"

Alex nodded. "Yes," she answered. "It's a voucher. Whenever you're ready to go, you can on any flight with an open seat. I can't imagine what it's been like for you to be so far from home for so long, but you did what you came here to do. You found me. And, no matter what, we will keep in contact."

"You will come?" Nat asked.

"Yes," Alex said. "I want to meet our parents. But this, it's a guaranteed way home, after the trial or whenever."

Nataliya threw her arms around Alex's neck, hugging her tightly. "I have something for you, too," she said. " _I had no money, so it's a place._ "

Alex smiled. "Really?" she asked. "Nat, you don't have to. I mean, this is the second time I'm celebrating turning twenty-nine."

"But, it's the first time you are right," Nataliya said, her grin wide. "Please?"

Nodding, Alex bit her lip. "Alright, Tali," she murmured. "Thank you so much."

Alex dressed, changing from the yoga pants and over sized sweatshirt she had tossed on that morning into a pair of jeans and button down blouse, casual but nice as well. "This okay?" she asked as Nataliya looked over the couch at her.

"Yes. It is simple place," she said. "Olivia tell me how to get there on subway. Oh, she say bring Kibs."

Alex nodded. "Great. You lead the way," she said with a warm smile. She followed Nataliya out of the apartment building, locking the door securely behind her, the dog happily trotting along on her leash.

As they exited the subway, Alex pinched her brow. "It's close to the precinct?" she asked.

Nataliya flushed. "It is where detectives work. Olivia and John." She smiled excitedly as she took Alex's hand and pulled Alex towards the precinct.

"What did you guys do?" Alex asked, growing more suspicious.

Up in the Special Victims office, Alex was brought to a halt. Even Nataliya stopped, apparently surprised. "It was lunch," she whispered.

"Yea, but these detectives, they go all out," Alex answered, walking into the office, impressed by the balloons and banner. "I feel like I'm turning three."

Olivia laughed. "Just shut up and celebrate. This was Nataliya's idea. We just built on it. You both deserve a great birthday. After all, it's the first one together that you will both remember."

They laughed, chattering while they ate pizza, drank beer, and socialized. Fin and Elliot had even gotten Nerf guns for everyone, and things had kind of devolved from there.

Laughing, her arms covering her head, Alex hid under Fin's desk, loaded Nerf gun in hand. She popped up quickly, looking around her, but she was already at a disadvantage against four police detectives and one captain. She saw the top of Olivia's head behind a gun and squealed as she ducked, diving back under the desk.

Taking a risk, Alex bolted to the Captain's office, sliding behind the door, a Styrofoam bullet smacking into the glass window behind her.

"Hey," she said, startled by Nataliya who had already been using the office as a hiding place from the all too accurate shots of the detectives. "You and me against them?"

Nataliya smiled. " _Against the world,_ " she murmured before Alex pulled open the door, and they took off running, laughing as they both stitched up pieces of themselves that had been missing. They could not recover the missing laughter of their childhood, but they could create new memories with each other, ones with joy and smiles and support. There was a darkness hanging over both of them, a rolling cloud of electricity and hell. But, it was not what defined them, and Alex, for one, knew that she would not be defined by the hell she had experienced but by the actions she took in spite of all of the bad.


End file.
